Life In Reverse
by RantWaitingToHappen
Summary: After an explosion, Tony is slowly but surely regressing in age! PapaGibbs! Teen/child/toddler/eventualBabyTony! Lots of hurtcomfortfluff, lots of team family fluff as well! R&R! Thanks.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N!** Seriously, READ THIS: Definately AU, in that Kates' not dead (...because Idk, I like writing her character) and Ziva did join the team anyway (because I like Zeevah!) And can I just say right off the bat, that none of them are their right ages (ever) in my fics? In this particular fic that's important(in a way): Tony's like 28, McGee's 31 (idk why I made him older, live with it folkes), Kate's 30, Ziva is 30, Abby is 29, Gibbs is (who cares, he's awesome), and as we all know already, Ducky is immortal (ancient...) so yeah...on with the story! Hope you guys like it?

**One. **

"IS EVERYONE OKAY?" Gibbs yelled through his mic. Kate and Ziva lay beside him in a cloud of black dust from the explosion, coughing.

"DiNozzo! McGee! Answer me!" This was bad. His men had been at the base of the explosion, checking the basement, whilst he, Kate, and Ziva had been on the first floor, looking for their suspect, one Jeffrey Simone, suspected of stealing chemicals and potentially harmful drugs after being fired from a Naval Base in Quantico.

"Gibbs!" He heard Tims' frantic voice from his mic.

"McGee! Where are you two?" Gibbs demanded, standing up from the wreckage and walking back towards the house, Kate and Ziva at his heels.

"We're stuck down here Boss, one of the metal poles is blocking the doorway and...something's wrong with Tony." Tim surmised hesitantly.

"Wrong? What's wrong with him McGee?" Gibbs asked anxiously, already calling in the cavalry.

"I-I can't describe it Gibbs, just get down here, quick!" McGee replied nervously. "I've got him on my lap, he's unconcious, his heart rate's steady and-he's coming around Gibbs!" he announced, feeling a million types of relieved. "Tony, how do you feel?"

Gibbs listened intently to the conversation from his mic as a fireman hacked down the door to the basement, knowing that was their best chance of getting the two NCIS agents out of the house.

Kate and Ziva both turned on their mics, listening in on McGee and DiNozzo with twin looks of concern on their faces.

They heard a small groan from who they presumed was Tony, and McGee saying "Shh, don't move; they're coming to get us right now." in a very soft voice, like he was talking to one of their victims, which made the rest of the team very afraid for a moment. Just how injured was Tony?

Gibbs watched the firemen finally break the door off it's hinges and set into action. They sent their smallest built man in, and Gibbs knew DiNozzo was in trouble. Because of the pole, at least half the doorway exit was covered and for McGee, that might be a tight squeeze, but for DiNozzo, who was the tallest member of his team and built with muscles, and now possibly injured and unconcious too, the odds were not looking good for him.

Ziva noticed this too and frowned, voicing her concerns, "They are not going to be able to fit Tony through that petite opening, Gibbs. They will be lucky to get Tim through!"

The fireman emerged through the small exit carrying a teenage boy in his arms, who was dirty with soot, and only half-concious; behind them McGee, also covered in the aftermath of the explosion, stummbled out.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs immidiately interrogated.

McGee instantly hushed him. "Boss, that _was _Tony." he whispered, not wanting to draw any attention to their conversation, as the firemen brought the young man, who couldn't have been any older than eighteen or nineteen, to the paremedics waiting outside.

Kate glared at McGee. "What the hell are you talking about? Where's Tony?"

_'Took the words right out of my mouth'_, Gibbs couldn't help but think, looking at McGee expectantly.

McGee shook his head, "That was Tony, guys, I swear! One second we're down there looking for Jeffrey Simone, and the next Tony's tackling me to the ground after realizing we'd triggered some sort of alarm! After the explosion I expect to feel a heavy weight on me, but it's just this smaller younger version of our Tony!

He was in his suit, Gibbs; when Tony woke up for a few seconds, he even called me 'McGoo' and asked what we were doing down there!" McGee paced back and forth, "It's what happened with the other people Jeffrey Simone expiremented on back at the Naval Base; it's why they fired him. He was dealing with his own devices using government money instead of helping the other scientists in the lab! I swear that's Tony." he breathed, feeling like a conspiracist.

They'd all read the case files, what Dr. Simones' experiments had resulted in. One Jane Doe had aged eighty years in the span of an hour and being in her early twenties already, she had died of "natural causes" before the Doctor could reverse the drug. So none of them could deny the fact that there was a very real possibility of Tony now being at least ten years younger-hard as it was to get it through their skulls.

"We must keep this information to ourselves." Ziva whispered inconspicuously, "If the press gets hold of this story, they will send Tony away to be tested. This is not something to belittle, after all."

The three agents nodded simultaneously in silent agreement.

"I'm going to get Tony back from the paramedics, bring him to Ducky and Abby-not a word about this to anyone else at the office gets out." Gibbs enforced, as he walked off to see how Tony was fairing with the two fussing paramedics.

As soon as he saw his senior field agent sitting on the egde of that ambulance, looking oh so small in an oversized Armani suit jacket, a white dress shirt, and black slacks, while the paramedics poked and prodded him, Gibbs felt a fierce need to protect Tony. He swiftly walked over to the ambulance and announced, "I'll be taking my agent, now." with a finality that dared either paramedic to argue.

Tony's face showed an infinite amount of gratitude towards the older man, as he stood up on shaky legs. He nearly made a face-plant on the ground, had Gibbs not caught him just in time. Tonys' grip on his Boss was desperate and tight. "Gibbs," He whispered, not sounding like himself at all. "Something's wrong with me." big, round green eyes looked up at Gibbs, pleading for an explanation.

Gibbs put his arm around his shoulder-finding it so odd that his senior field agent wasn't in the same height range as he, when he did-and pulled him close as they neared the van, where three concerned special agents waited, "We're going to take you to Ducky; McGee got a sample of whatever chemical exploded in there-we're going to figure this out and get you back to normal, DiNozzo." he promised, squeezing his shoulder in what he hoped was comforting gesture.

**A/N:** BTW, I know you're all "What? This is teenagedDiNozzo, not BabyTony!" But I'm gonna' get to that in later chapters! Reviews would be AWESOME. (seriously...button's right there...just click it. You know you want to. You know I want you to. You know I know you know I want you to...So do it. :D)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N! **Thanks to all the wonderful reviews (I cannot get enough of them! *slightly addicted...*) And a special shoutout to Combatcrazy, who's followed all three of my stories and reviewed, as well. :D IT MEANS A LOT! So seriously, thank you. :) Okay, onto the story! I decided to leave Tony a teen for a while longer (now that the plot of the story is better set in my head) and it'll progress from there! Alright, here it is, hope you guys like it! Begining is slow, but it gets better!

**Two. **

"NO WAY."

Ziva had called her on their way to the building and Abby had laughed. Gibbs had swiped Zivas' phone, said "This is serious." and Abby had gaped. Because Gibbs never joked around, like, ever, so yeah, they were serious. Oh my. Abby felt all kinds of ways about this.

She'd always wanted a little brother, after all. She shook her head, so not the time for that. She'd get her hands on whatever chemical substances that wacko doctor had used and find a way to reverse the whole effect. Oh, but she just had to wonder, what did her favorite boytoy look like? She could only imagine-although not for long, as the elevator to her Sanctuary dinged, announcing her psuedo familys' arrival.

And as soon as she saw him, tiny little thing that he was, Abby pounced on Tony with the biggest hug she'd ever dished out. "Oh Baby-boy look at you!" she pulled him back, at arms length and brushed more soot from his face. "Somebody get him some decent clothing to walk around in! And a shower! He's covered in ashes, look at his hair!" she hugged him again despite the fact that her white lab coat was now sporting grey smudges.

"Abbs, we need to get him to Ducky-we need you to analyze the sample McGee collected." Gibbs cut in, taking Tony back from her by the shoulders, finding it so odd that he could manevuere his second in command so easily-he was so tiny, he wondered if maybe they'd gotten his age wrong and he was younger than eighteen? "Kate, go find something suitable for him to wear, something that'll fit." he ordered, realizing Abby was right on that note; oversized boxers and an Armani top didn't exactly scream inconspicuous. "McGee, take Tony to the showers, stay with him; Ziva, you stay outside the shower room and make sure no one else enters." Everyone set out to do what they'd been told by their superior in a frenzy of activity.

"Are you sure you're alright in there?" Tim asked for the millionth time since they'd entered the showering facilities.

Tony had stripped inside the stall and slipped his dirty clothes underneath, for McGee to put in an evidence bag. "Yeees Mooom." he drawled, rolling his eyes, although he knew the probie couldn't see the action. Tony knew the only reason Gibbs had wanted Tim in there was because Tony had looked like Bambi when he'd first started walking back at the scene with the paramedics; but he felt fine now, if a little weak.

Well, as fine as anybody who'd just been chemically altered into a much younger, less legal version of themselves with like, zero consent on the matter, he amended in his head. Right now, his main concern was getting back to his proper age; things like 'Will I be able to keep my job?' and 'Could I explain to the cops I'm actually 28 if they catch me drinking if I do lose my job?' would have to wait for a while, still.

Down at autopsy, Ducky had been briefed by Gibbs about his senior field agents' current condition. He couldn't help but marvel at the medical and scientific prospects of what the drugs down in Dr. Simones' basement had done to Anthony.

McGee had given Tony the clothes Kate had bought him, an NCIS t-shirt, and a pair of shorts. When he stepped foot out of the changing room, Tony looked akin to a teen who'd just changed in the locker room for P.E class. Admittedly, Tony had been a handsome youth, with vibrant emerald green eyes, he wasn't as tall or muscled or well, jocky as Tim had expected him to be, but more slim, more teen model, less jock on steriods, Tim decided. He thought back to his own high school years. He'd been such a geek, and good-looking popular kids like Tony were the ones who'd primarily made his days a living hell. McGee tried not to let petty old things like that get to him anymore.

"Gibbs told me to take you down to see Ducky now." he announced, once he saw that Tony had put on his sneakers.

"Pfft, McCan'tDoMath, I'm not five, I'm like, seventeen, I'm pretty sure I can make it all the way down to Autopsy by myself." Tony rolled his eyes-twice in less than an hours' time, yeah, he was definately seventeen again, he thought absently, as he made his way towards the elevator.

"My goodness, lad." Ducky uttered, upon seeing the teen. For a long time he just stared at the boy. The wonder of it all. He was examining Tony before he could even really step foot out of the elevator, his medical-know-how kicking into gear, before he realized they were still at the door, yet. "What mess have you gotten yourself into this time, dear Anthony? Come, sit up here." he motioned.

Tony grimaced. The metal table he sat at, usually after a concussion or some other type of case-related injury, was just a tiny bit higher than he was used to, and to be honest, he still wasn't feeling a hundred percent when it came to strength; he was more tired than he had been in years, in fact. After a failed attempt to hop up on the table, Gibbs bodily lifted him up there himself. Needless to say, Tony blushed.

Ducky started with the usual doctor patient checkup routine, hearing his heart, shining a light in his mouth, ears, and eyes. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"My Boss just manhandled me onto a table where you open up corpses, and I'm under the legal drinking age, sooooo, like, bad?" Tony shrugged.

"Don't be a smartass DiNozzo." Gibbs said, despite his half-crooked smirk.

Down at her lab, Abbys' machines were still running various tests on the sample Tim had handed her earlier. She totally hadn't had enough time to fully grasp the fact that Tony was the size of a high school junior. This was the definition of hinky and beyond!

"Weird right?" McGee said, appearing next to her.

"Woah." she started. "Someone's been getting lessons in class Stealth 101 by Gibbs, huh?"

Tim grinned, "Or it could be that all that loud metal alternative music you listen to finally blew out your ear drums?" he suggested, instead.

She laughed, "No way, my music's thereputic Timmy." she said, all seriousness in tact. "But yeah, it is weird. At least, I hope you were talking about the same thing I was thinking about, otherwise we are on completely different pages." she babbled.

Tim nodded, "Tonys'...de-aging thing? God, it's like something out of a sci-fi novel!" he awed, shaking his head in disbelief. "He's even starting to act like a teen-well, more so than usual." he ammended.

"Mhmm, and my babies are still trying to configure what the seperate chemical substances are, and even then, I'm pretty sure we'd need Dr. Time-is-irrelevant to fix Tony." she grimaced.

Tim frowned, "Who do you think will get stuck with baby-sitting duty 'till we do get him back to normal? I'm really bad with kids."

Abby snorted, "Timmy, A. He's not a kid, he's a teenager, if he catches you calling him a kid, he might just have a fit. And B. Why Gibbs of course-not that Tony really needs, as you put it, "baby-sitting", but I really doubt people at Tonys' apartment would be all whatever about a tiny version of himself suddenly occupying his place. He'd be better off at Gibbs house."

"Why Gibbs?"

Abby smiled. "Why not Gibbs? If anyone can keep a teenaged Tony in control, he's your man."

"So what's the diagnosis Doc?" Tony asked jokingly, laying flat on his back on the metal table, kicking his feet up in the air. He'd been a pretty lean kid, up until his senior year, when he'd decided to go for football. Before then, he'd been in track and soccer-his physique better suited to the sports, wherein running was key.

Ducky stared in amusement as the young man stretched his new limbs and did other acrobatic tricks he was pretty certain he'd only been able to pull off at such a young age, when his bones had still been developing. "Anthony, about how old do you suppose you are right now?" he asked.

"Seventeen, probably. I mean, I hit my last real growth spurt the summer before my senior year od high school, it's when I turned eighteen, gained more weight, all that jazz." he concluded with a nod to himself.

Ducky nodded, "I see." he wrote notes on a piece of paper on his clipboard.

"You look like one of the doctors from Scrubs." Tony noted, "People are always saying that show isn't funny, but I don't know, there's a certain charisma in there I like about it. I mean, Doctors Turk and JD? Bromance has never been more manly. And I like that they have one of those feel-good morals at the end of every episode, wraps it up real nice-"

He may have shrunk in size and age, but it was the mind-numbing rants like those that reminded everyone he was still their DiNozzo. "It's past eight, I'm relieving everyone for the night and taking him home; having DiNozzo at NCIS looking the way he does can't exactly help matters." Gibbs interrupted.

"Sleepover at your house?" Tony asked, perking up a little; he loved Gibbs' house. It was comfortable and homey, as to where his own home was more a storage place than anything. He was rarely ever there, and when he was, he couldn't help but feel lonely.

Gibbs ruffled the kids' hair, "Yeah, let's go, think it's past your bedtime." he deadpanned.

Tony glared at the older man, "Ha-ha, Boss, real funny."

"I thought so." he shrugged, taking hold of him as he climbed down from the table, just in case he was still too weak and fell on his way. Ducky had explained that a transgression such as Anthonys' had it's drawbacks, but as far as he could tell, after testing his muscles and reflexes, he'd probably be a little wobbly on his feet for another couple of hours or so, a bit tired as a result of the drastic change, but he'd be fine after a good-nights' rest, and Gibbs intended to give him that.

Tony had passed out cold in the car, on their way to Gibbs home, and Jethro practically dragged the semi-concious boy into the house once he'd parked the car in the driveway. "Should get a T.V in here Boss." he mummbled, as he was set down on the couch in the living room.

"Rots the brain." Gibbs responded without missing a beat.

Tony began to nod off again. Gibbs tapped at his head. "No sleeping here. Gotta' getcha' upstairs to the guest room." He explained to a grumpy DiNozzo, who groaned when he was hoisted up from the couch.

His head and most of his weight leaning against Jethro as they walked up the stairs, the pair made it to the guest room just in time for Tony to dive face-first into the matress.

Gibbs rolled his eyes at the sight of his senior field agent passed out on the bed. He kneeled down, untied the boys' shoes, took off his socks, and propped him further up on the bed, in a more comfortable position, putting a wool blanket over his smaller frame and-

"Jesus Christ." Gibbs muttered to himself. He was tucking the kid in, for shits' sake. He couldn't remember the last time he'd done so-that was a lie, he could remember it, quite clearly even. His little girl, Kelly. She'd never reached her teens, still only just a little girl when she'd...died. But he liked to imagine she would've grown up to be quite the exceptional adult; although he always would've thought of her as his little girl, no matter how old she'd gotten.

He sat at the egde of the bed, one hand combing through Tonys' ruffled light brown hair, as Tony slept more soundly than he'd ever seen him sleep before. Then again, that could be because the times he had seen him sleep were either at his desk in that God awful position he always managed to keep himself balanced in, or on an aircraft-not exactly ideal places to take a nap on.

Something had been bugging him all morning and all afternoon so far. Sharp, shooting pains in his stomach. They came and went at random times, as they pleased. Tony had wondered vaguely if it was some sort of symptom of the chemicals in the explosion, but, a stomach virus had been going around the office lately. In fact, he'd heard just yesterday agents Lisa and Margerie were at home nursing their illnesses. So why worry Duck and the team over something that was more than likely probably nothing?

Around late afternoon that day, the team had come up empty handed on their search for Dr. Simone and Abby was still seperating all the chemical substances and cataloguing and well-basically, they had gotten no where closer to findind a cure, if that's what one called something that reversed the affects of an age degressing drug?

But, having made zero progress meant Gibbs was . Abby could not have been more frustrated if she'd tried. McGee was in the same level of aggrivated, none of his computer programs working so that he could at least trace the guys cell phone-which had either been destroyed or turned off, because there was no signal he could follow whatsoever. Ziva was in the process of contacting her old contacts and she too was getting nowhere, which only managed to irritate her, if nearly breaking the phone on her last phone call when hanging up was any indication to her anger. And Kate, who was making a detailed profile of the man kept complaining about the lack of information she had to even really be able to predict where he'd gone!

In short, Team Gibbs was to be left alone, lest someone wanted their heads bitten off. Tony couldn't work at his desk as per usual, and Gibbs had informed the Director beforehand that he was taking a weeks vacation, as he wasn't feeling up to par. Ironically enough, he'd told the Director that Tony had caught the stomach virus.

So Tony sat in Ducks office, safely hidden from any prying eyes, following Dr. Simones' paper trail, also getting pretty much nowhere.

"Anthony, my boy, I am having Palmer go out and get us something to eat, what would you like?" Ducky inquired, peeking his head into the office, where Tony looked quite small in the robust leather cushiony chair, behind his large oak desk.

Tonys' stomach made an unpleasant flip as the mere thought of food entered his mind. Blegh. He'd eaten a bowl of cereal that morning at Gibbs house, had even skipped out on his usual sugary milky cup of coffee that morning, when his stomach had made its' displeasure known. "Umm, no thanks Duck, I'm not really that hungry."

Ducky arched a brow, "Now when was the last time Anthony DiNozzo turned down a meal?"

Tony gave a cheeky grin, "Well Ducky, probably since he gained this super awesome bod back and would like to keep it as such?" he jested, hoping it would distract his old friend from thinking something was wrong. Because really, nothing was wrong, nothing beyond the regressed age, anyway.

The doctor chuckled, "Are you quite certain you don't care for a bite to eat?" he offered one more time.

Tony shrugged, "I guess, I don't know, a slice would be good." he relented, knowing Ducky wouldn't give up 'till he'd gotten him to eat _something_.

"Ah, good then, you sit tight, I'll go give Mr. Palmer our orders and then we three can sit down and eat, yes?"

Tony smiled and nodded, as the doctor left his lab. He liked Ducky; he was always such a mother hen though, and particularly to him and Abby-they were the youngest members of Team Gibbs, afterall-that was officially now an understatement. Tony didn't mind it a lot of the time though, he hadn't exactly been coddled or anything as a kid by either of his parents, and it was nice sometimes-reminded him that it hadn't been his fault his parents had been so cold toward him, that he wasn't the bad variable in that messed up equation. He couldn't be, not if other people stopped in their tracks enough to give a damn.

"Urgh." Tonys' hand immediately flew up to his stomach, where the sharp pain was located. It was coming more frequently now, than it had been going. Maybe he ought to tell Ducky after all, he thought, as he reached for the desk, gripping at the oak furniture to keep himself balanced as he stood, the pain nearly making his knees give away. After a few moments, after he had regained his equilibrium, Tony made his way slowly to autopsy.

Where it was completely empty, sans an open corpse on a metal table, with a few tools splayed out next to it. So not the sight he needed right now. Where was Ducky? "Duck?" He called out, gripping at his side tighter when the pain continued, not letting up like the other times.

Realizing this was getting him nowhere, Tony got into the elevator-he'd tell Gibbs, and hopefully he wouldn't make a big deal of it. Maybe give him something for the pain, possibly get Ducky. He couldn't remembering ever feeling this bad from a simple stomach virus before.

When he stepped out of the elevator, his Boss had just hung up the phone and looked about ready to kill somebody. McGee wasn't at his desk, probably with Abby, Tony figured. Kate was lost in her profile, photos and files and papers spread all over her workstation-the world but a distant thing to her right then. And Ziva was just as frustrated, if not more, than Gibbs, talking in a foreign language to one of her contacts on the phone-and as it seemed from his point of view, the person on the other end of the line was getting a hell of a mouthfull from their little ninja agent.

In retrospect, had Tony not been forcing himself to focus on not doubling over in pain, he'd have known that now wasn't the greatest time to tell any of them he had a tummyache-urgh, just thinking about it made him want to go back to Ducks office and suck it up. He contemplated doing so for a moment, before deciding he'd rather get made fun of for whining about a silly virus than have to deal with the crippling pain any longer.

"Gibbs-"

"What the hell are you doing out here, DiNozzo?" Gibbs stood up, looking quite menancing, jaw locked in place, glare set on High. Tony nearly took a step back; his own father had had that pissed off look in his eye many a times during his child hood and none of those situations had ever ended well for him. _But this is Gibbs, he'd not like that_, Tony reminded himself. "You're supposed to be in Ducks office right now, you could blow this whole thing! What if somebody recognizes you? I ask you to do one damn thing: Stay with Duck, out of sight. You can't even do that! What was so Goddamn important you had-"

Gibbs was just stressed about their current lack of leads, it didn't help that he was the reason they were trying so hard to find this guy. Tony though, felt his face heat up with embarrasment, when his Boss mentioned he couldn't even do the one thing he'd been asked by his superior. This had definately been a bad idea. "Sorry Boss." he muttered quickly, using what strength he had left to make a mad dash for the stairs. No way in hell was he getting caught in the elevator.

Ziva hung up her phone and glared at Gibbs. "Go apologize to Tony right now or I will tell on you to Abby; that was all not called."

"Uncalled for, Ziva." Kate corrected, also glaring at Gibbs, "And she's right, Gibbs, you didn't need to take out your frustration on Tony; we're all frustrated. Imagine how Tony feels? He's not even in his right age group anymore."

They were right. Gibbs had realized that much the second he'd uttered the words. "Damnit." he muttered to himself, as he ran for the stairs after his second in command. It was a good thing, though, that it was nearly eight, and a majority of the agents had left the building already, so no one really, besides him team was there, to hear him call a teenage boy by his senior field agents last name. That would've been something else entirely to attempt to explain.

When he made it to Ducks' office, he saw Tony sitting there, hunched over a file.

"Tony, I didn't mean to yell at you back there. I didn't mean any of that stuff I said. I'm just...stressed right now; you didn't deserve me blowing up at you like that." Gibbs bit his lip, he sucked at apologies.

"I didn't." Tony agreed stoicly, not looking up from the lapfull of papers he'd gathered.

"I'm sorry Tony."

"Rule six: Never Apolo-"

"-gize," Gibbs interrupted, "Unless, you're wrong, and you've hurt someone important to you, DiNozzo. In that case, grovel and beg for forgiveness."

Tony looked up briefly, saw his Bosses genuinity, smiled a little. "Didn't really see any groveling or begging but I guess I'll take it. Wait 'till Abby hears this; got an apology from the Bossman himself." he smirked playfully.

The relief Gibbs felt was immense. "Abby hears none of this; if she knew about this she'd have my head on a platter, ya' know." he walked further into Duckys office. "So, what was it that you wanted to tell me before?" he asked, now curious.

Tony looked back down, shuffling through his papers, "Oh, that, it was nothing important."

Gibbs put one finger under the boys' chin and tipped his head up so that they were staring eye to eye. "Don't lie to me DiNozzo."

"It's really nothing Boss." Tony assured. "I thought I'd caught something that would lead us to Jeffery Simone, but looking at these papers again, it was a dead end." he explained, remembering rule seven: Always be specific when you lie.

Gibbs scruternized his agent a moment more before nodding. "Alright; we're leaving in an hour or so, so meet me at the bullpen then, got it?"

"Yep." Tony nodded, as his Boss exited the office.

The ache was still present, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been; he was probably overreacting anyway, he thought, grimacing as he rubbed the side of his stomach, hoping to sooth the pain away.

He'd be fine.

**A/N!** Don't worry, he's not dying (although something is CLEARLY wrong!). I hate character death fics! But yeah, hope you guys liked it. And well...you know what to do...click that button right underneath. C'mon. Do it. Your mouse is just itching to click on the review button, so just give into that impulse!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N! Hey Anon e. Mouse, hopefully you're reading this, I agree with you on that note, while writing the last chapter I actually edited it, so that Tony didn't tell anyone how crappy he was feeling, which I realized belatedly is a very cliche' thing to do when it comes to fics like these, so I hope this chapter makes up for the dissapointment in the last one, yeah? Well, here it is, thanks to everyone who has taken the time and reviewed up until this point, you're all awesome. :D Enjoy! **

**Three. **

"WHERE'S DUCKY?" Tony asked Palmer, when it was clear the older doctor wasn't behind him, as he traveled inside the office with three packages of food.

"Oh, he was called down by another team on call right now-he should be joining us soon enough though." the young man sputtered. When he'd first heard about Anthony DiNozzos' remarkable de-aging occurance, Jimmy Palmer hadn't believed it, but after seeing it in the flesh, he was more or less inclined to believe whatever else next came to mind than he had been before.

Palmer was a doctor too, _technically_, Tony decided, and the pain had become unbearable shortly after Gibbs' departure. His side was on fire right now. "My stomach feels weird, can you check it or whatever it is you doctor-types call it?" he asked nervously, not ever one to openly ask a physician to poke at him.

"W-Wha'?" Palmer started, surprised as well, but regained his composure. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Tony's face was pinched, "My side," he began, "I don't know if it's something caused by the explosion or what, but it feels like Bruce Lee kicked me in a fit of rage." he described, hunching over now, arms both intertwined, wrapped across his aching stomach.

Palmer had the very wobbly teenager walk across the room and into autopsy, helped him climb atop the table, and laid him down flat on his back. "Now which side hurts?" he asked, and Tony could almost imagine Palmer in an actual hospital taking care of...live patients.

"Here." he said, pointing to his right lower side. "At first it was everywhere, but as the day went on it shrunk to just that one area, but like, it hurts a lot more." Tony felt like one of the patients in House as he tried to explain what hurt-idiotic; but you had to admit, for a pill-popping, vicodin addicted genius, Dr. House rocked.

"How's the pain? Sharp? Stabbing?"

"Sharp." Tony replied without hesitance. "But then when it's less severe it's just a throbbing pain. Can you give me some vicodin or something? Dr. House seems pretty peppy when he takes some. And he's also a super badass."

Palmer chuckled, "I doubt vicodin would help you, Tony. In fact, if my suspicions are right," he said, as he felt around the area Tony had complained about before. "It's probably not an effect of the explosion."

"Then what is it?" Tony hissed as Jimmys' hand touched a particularly tender spot.

Jimmy frowned, "Tony, we're going to have to take you to the hospital, your appendix is inflamed. There's a huge possibility it's appendicitis." he diagnosed.

"What?" Tony sat up, regretting the movement when the pain increased. He breathed, "No, that's not possible, Palmer; I had my appendix taken out years ago." he explained.

Jimmy blinked, "When?"

Tony thought for a minute, through the fog of pain that was begining to overwhelm him. "Uh, like, a little over ten years ago? I was seventeen I think? Yeah, seventeen." he nodded.

"If I'm correct, you're seventeen now, Agent DiNozzo." Palmer pointed out, "And...you clearly still have your abdomen, I felt it just now. So, I'm certain for sure that it's apendicitis." he rattled off nervously.

Tony groaned, from both pain and irritation. He should've know; this was the same awful feeling he'd had before his appendix had burst in the boys' dormitory all those years ago. "_Fuuuck_." woah-where had that come from? He realized abruptly his speech had admittedly changed ever since yesterday. He'd cursed like a sailor in his teens, but had grown out of the nasty habit in college-the decent girls weren't exactly attracted to loud, foul-mouthed jocks.

"I'm going to call for an ambulance now-"

Tony shook his head, "No way, I hate those things. Can you call Gibbs instead?" he winced, realizing how pittifully childish he sounded. Since when did he need his Boss at his side for this kind of thing? He'd been to the hospital tons of times.

"Course," Jimmy didn't see anything wrong with it, "It'd be easier to just drive to the hospital this time of night anyway." he had already dialed Gibbs number. "Uh, h-hi, uhh, this is-this is Palmer, n-no, it's not a s-s-social call, what I mean is-"

Tony whimpered, he was in agony and Jimmy chose _now _to stutter? He snatched the phone from the young doctor. "Gibbs?"

"Tony? What's wrong?"

"Can you come get me? Palmer says I need to go to the hospital; I don't wanna' ride in an ambulance." he whined, certainly feeling all his seventeen years.

In less than five minutes, Gibbs had run down the stairs and down to autopsy, Ducky at his heels. "What happened?" he demanded, expecting to step into a scene of blood and disarray-this was DiNozzo afterall.

"His appendix!" Palmer announced, trying hard not to stutter again. "We need to get Tony to the hospital immediately, before it bursts."

"Urgh." Tony groaned. "Gibbs." he called out, feeling particularly needy, hunched over further into himself.

Jethro picked the teen up from the table, cradling him in his arms, and started walking for the elevator, Duck and Jimmy not far behind.

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"Oh my God, my poor baby!" Abby arrived at the hospital not long after her companions, along with the rest of team Gibbs.

"Palmer called us." Ziva explained, in response to Gibbs questioning look.

"What's the matter with Tony?" Kate asked, when she saw the boy huddled next to Gibbs, head on their Bosses chest, gritting his teeth, eyes shut tight, in obvious pain.

Ducky frowned darkly. "Mister Palmer deduced Anthony has a case of appendicitis, however, the incompetent doctors running this hospital simply put him on the waiting list!" it was the first time anyone had seen the doctor so angry.

McGee grimaced. "Waiting list? Can't they see how much pain he's in?" Tim was no doctor, but even he could see that Tony was far from well.

Tony gripped at Gibbs shirt desperately, face buried in his chest, the other hand wrapped tightly around his mid-section. He was breathing hard now, making tiny sounds of discomfort, trying not to outright cry on his Boss.

Gibbs wanted to throttle someone. He held onto his boy, whispering comforting nothings into his spiked hair, rubbing his back up and down, wishing he could take Tonys' pain instead. "Somebody get a damn doctor here now!" he demanded sharply, regretting his tone when the teen under him let out a heart-wrenching sob-he knew it was due to the appendicitis, but he couldn't help but feel guilty. Screaming wouldn't exactly make things better.

Ziva cracked her knuckles. "I will be right back." she announced, glare in place, as she went to the front desk.

Kate felt completely helpless. Not only was Tony in so much palpable torture was a torture in itself.

Gibbs realized Tony was practically out of his seat, half of him laying across Gibbs, and lifted him as easily as he had done in autopsy, onto his lap, where he continued to hold him as tight and delicately as he could. Tony had barely registered the move, chest heaving, willing air to enter his lungs, as his body was racked by sobs.

Ten years ago, when he'd been in this much awful pain-the first (and he'd thought last) time he'd had appendicitis, he'd had absolutely no one to turn to. His father hadn't sent for his that winter in boarding school, all of his friends had gone home for the Christmas break, and the teachers, even, were quite scarce.

This time around, the pain just as bad.

The only graspable comfort he could find in the midst of all this affliction and his wailing, were Gibbs steady hands holding onto him. And that was enough for him.

**A/N! Another chapter is on it's way soon! And congrats to Combatcrazy for being the only one to guess it was appendicitis. :P Review! You know you want to! Button's right there, guys. :o! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N! EARTHQUAKE! ...My friggin' couch **_**shook **_**while I was writing this! 0.0 And my ceiling almost ****caved ****in -.- *coughs* But, I'm alive and whatnot :D so onto the story! R&R! **

**Four**.

TIM LAUGHED.

"You should have seen her Tony, the nurse at the front desk was almost pale when she came back with a doctor, after Ziva 'talked' to her." he made imaginary quotes in the air.

The teen grinned weakly from his place on the bed. Abby had put down the railings, and scooted onto the hospital bed next to her friend; now his head lay on her shoulder, as she played with a lose string on his gown. "She still won't tell us what she said to get doctors to come and look at you so quickly." Abby pouted.

Ziva simply smiled. "That woman was being unreasonable. I made her see that."

"You and your ninja mind-games." Tony mummbled, clearly exhausted after surgery, still.

"Alright, I think we should all get out of the room and let the poor boy rest some; he has been through quite a lot." Ducky announced.

Everyone reluctantly(Abby being the most hesitant to leave)said their goodbyes and exited the room; Gibbs trailed behind them, and just when Tony thought he was leaving with them, the older man waved bye, and closed the door behind him, turning around and walking to sit back down, next to his hospital bed.

Tony blinked, "You're staying?" he asked cautiously, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"'Course DiNozzo," Gibbs said, as if it were a matter-of-fact. He leaned back against his seat, newspaper in front of him. "Palmer said you had appendicitis when you were seventeen, too."

Tony nodded, trying not to fall asleep on the spot. "Yeah, wasn't so lucky then." he grimaced at the unpleasant memory, his eyelids feeling heavy.

Gibbs noticed this. "Go to sleep Tony, I'll be right here when you wake up. Promise." he took the boys hand, the one that wasn't held down by an IV, in his hand, and squeezed reassuringly.

The words and the gesture made Tony feel more relaxed than he thought he'd ever been, and despite drawling out, "M'not tir'd Boss." he quickly fell into a deep, much needed slumber.

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Tony balanced a grape on his nose very talentedly, if he could say so himself, head tilted back, waiting for the fruit to fall into his mouth.

"DiNozzo!"

Tony fell off his chair with a surprised yelp.

Gibbs entered the kitchen, looking worried for a minute, as he helped his senior field agent up off the floor. "Why the hell aren't you in bed resting?" he demanded, once he saw that Tony wasn't injured.

The seventeen year-old honest to God whined, sounding every bit his age. "But _Boooss_! I'm bored! And you don't have a tv upstairs and you won't let me go downstairs to watch TV from the one you have in the basement, 'cause of some irrational fear I might fall down the stair-"

Gibbs looked at his pointedly.

"Gibbs, that was one time! And it was only 'cause Abby tackled me in our game of manhunt! Which I still say was against the rules-"

Gibbs sighed exasperatedly. "And I still say you shouldn't have been playing a kids game in my house." his tone suggested he still thought it was comical, to this day.

"Manhunt is not a kids' game. It is an intricate game which divides the strong from the weak! It's why Kate, McGee and Palmer didn't want to play, and it ended up being just me, Abbs, and Zee-vah, and we couldn't make teams." he explained, then jumped up suddenly, "I made dinner!" he announced. "You never eat at work when you stay late, so I figured you'd be hungry when you got back, and no Gibbs, bourbon does not make up for a missed meal."

Gibbs grinned as Tony sat him down, and started chastising him about skipping meals and how coffee and bourbon didn't equal breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as he got a couple of plastic containers from the fridge. It was close to nine, and he'd made the food at around eight, so he'd put it in the frigde, knowing Gibbs wouldn't be home 'till later. He took two plates from the cup board and served each plate their individual proportions from the containers, and put the first plate into the microwave to heat. After it dinged, he put in his plate and waited.

"And here I thought you lived off Chinese and pizza." Gibbs commented in jest, as he took the first bite, only to be pleasantly surprised, "Didn't know you could cook so damn well, DiNozzo." he complimented, as he dug in to the Italian dish.

Tony secretly beamed at the praise, taking his plate out of the microwave and sitting down next to his Boss to eat, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "So whad'ya do today? Like, did you guys get any new leads?" He asked, a little hesitantly.

Gibbs sighed. "No, we didn't, but Abby thinks she's making some progress with the chemical substance, so that's something."

Tony nodded. "That's good. Sooo, can I go-"

"No you cannot go back, DiNozzo. Doctors' orders. And try to follow them tomorrow, won't ya'? Bed rest means you hafta' be in an actual bed and resting, not on a chair trying to balance a grape on your nose."

Tony pouted. "But it's so boring Gibbs; and it doesn't even hurt all that much anymore! It's not like I'll tear my stitches by sitting in Ducks office looking through files and cold cases, Boss. Please, can I come back to work?" he pleaded, puppy eyes in effect.

The eyes were harder to resist on this smaller version of his senior field agent. Gibbs frowned. "Fine, DiNozzo, guess it can't hurt." he muttered. Plus, it would be better that Tony be sitting still in close-quarters with Duck looking over cold cases than running about his house whining and calling Abby and the rest of the team all day.

Tony smiled his megawatt smile and continued to eat, now with more gusto. Jethro shook his head; he found he really couldn't say no to the kid.

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"Tony!" Abby squeeled in delight, but kept herself from outright pouncing on her friend, aware of his still-healing stitches. Instead, she pinched his cheeks.

"Ouch, Abbs, not cool."

"I can't help myself! Have you looked in the mirror lately? I just want to eat you up! You're about as tall as Kate, as baby faced as McGee, and thin as Ziva! In short, you're adorable." she surmised with glee.

"Adorable? Handsome, Greek God, hot? Yes. Adorable? No, Abigail." he grimaced. "I'm seventeen, not seven." he snorted, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was working on.

"Umm," Abby paused, coughed. "Not for long..." she mummbled.

Tony quirked a brow, "No way, you found a way to turn me back to normal?"

Abby fidgeted in place. "Not exactly."

"Well spit it out Abbs, never known you to be so hesitant to speak." he joked light heartedly.

"Okay, okay." she took a deep breath. "Bossman told you already that yesterday I was starting to make some progress, right?" at his nod, she continued. "Well, it's not the good 'I might have found a cure' kind of progress.

"It's more like the...you're-slowly-but-surely-getting-younger-even-as-we-speak-kind of progress." she played with her pony tails nervously.

"Wait, what? I'm slowly but surely getting...?"

"Younger...like, I seriously have no idea at what rate the chemical is changing your body, all I know is that it is, and I'm not sure at what speed either or how long you'll be in each period of age, or like, if you skip years within days or weeks, and-" she paused, a striken look on her face. "That first case, with the Jane Doe, when she was subjected to the drug by Dr. Crazy, she grew older in a matter of minutes, and it got out of control and within an hour she was nearly a hundred years old and ended up...dead." she squeeked, tears starting to well in her eyes. "And, in your case, you only inhaled the chemical indirectly, yeah? So, I mean, I figure that's most likely why you're still seventeen and not like, a baby right now. But, eventually, you'll start to shrink until you're a tiny baby and after that...I-" Abby caught her breath, voice cracking a little. "I don't know what'll happen then." she wiped a few stray tears, her mascara running down her cheeks.

Tony hugged her quickly, shushing her, murmuring a few comforting words to her. "Abbs, don't worry. If anything, we have time to find the antidote, at least, yeah?"

Abby nodded into Tonys shirt, hunching over, now that he was so short and her high-heeled boots only managed to make her taller. "Mhmm." she sniffled. "I'll try my hardest Tony, we'll find that scrumbag and we'll find a cure and you won't...you'll be fine."

From the entrance to Abbys lair, Gibbs stood, petrified, heart sinking at the Goths' devastating words. Oh God. Tony, his senior field agent, his friend, his...the man he thought of as a son, could die.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N! I'm extremely happy right now (festival tomorrow and my new awesome hair!) and in between doing laundry, buying flashlights and canned foods for the hurricane, babysitting tiny kids who asked "Why are those two boys kissing?" when I foolishly let them watch music videos on Youtube to Katy Perrys 'Fireworks' -.- I got this chapter done! Enjoy :D **

**Five**.

TONY STARED AT himself in the mirror that morning.

It had been a week since his "change", and the team had finally managed to track the doctor. The dead doctor. Dr. Simone had hung himself in a motel room on some highway road, a long detailed letter describing his work as the future and something more about the greatness of evolution. In short, they'd gotten no where.

They'd had to move on from the case and were now working on the Peterson Case-Tony had gotten the gist of the details, a murdered petty officer at base, three suspects, inclusind a fiance'. The Director still had no idea of what really went on in Dr. Simones' home or why Tony really wasn't around the office lately, either. Thankfully, Gibbs explanations had a tendency to sway people away from asking any questions, and he had accumulated a _lot _of vacation time.

Last night, he'd been rough housing with Abby and Ziva and he'd torn a stitch, which Ducky hadn't been pleased about, as he'd fixed him back up, telling him "You'll have quite the scar, young man."

And Gibbs. That had actually been a little funny. For Kate and Tim, anyway, who'd gotten to watch Gibbs chastise the three sternly, as if they were children again. He'd even done the whole wag of the finger routine.

So with his still healing wound from the surgery, Tony had been made to stay home the next day. By the time he'd woken up, surprised to see it was nearly three in the afternoon. He hadn't woken up that late...ever. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he'd yawned and stummbled out of bed, nearly tripping on his own feet on his way to the bathroom. On his way to the toilet he passed the mirror, went back, did a double take, and just stood there.

"Oh my God." his voice cracked. Oh God, his voice _cracked_. His voice hadn't hitched or cracked or anything that embarrasing in years, not since he'd turned thirteen and hit puberty!

For a minute he thought _'Least I skipped ages 14-16' _that's when he'd had all those unsightly zits and outbreaks of acne. Thriteen and down, and seventeen and up had pretty much been his glory years when it came to appearance. He shook his head, "Really?" he asked himself in the mirror. "You wake up four years younger than you were just twelve hours ago and you're obsessing over pimples?" he sat on the tiled bathroom floor and landed a little too hard-he couldn't remember ever feeling so light. He'd been a scrawny kid until his senior year in high school, after all.

His cell phone started ringing in the other room, and he scrammbled up to answer it. "Hello-"

"Christ DiNozzo! I've been calling all day! Rule Three: Never be unreachable!" Tony heard the underlying concern, even if most people could only distinguish the anger. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Asleep." he replied quickly, trying to make himself sound older through the phone.

"Asleep?" he sounded incredulous.

"Boss, I shrunk." Tony blurted out.

He could almost hear Gibbs rolling his eyes. "Yeah DiNozzo, that's kind of why Abbs is still studying the chemicals and we're all still reading Dr. Simones research on the downlow." the sarcasm was palpable.

Tony glared at the phone for a minte. He so wasn't in the mood. "No Gibbs, I mean I shrunk _again_! I'm a kid!" he squeeked near the end there and cursed, trying to clear his throat.

At the end of the phone Gibbs was so quite one could've heard a pin drop. After a pregnant pause he spoke again. "How young are you?"

"My best guess is like, thirteen?"

"I'm going over there right now jus-"

"What? No, Gibbs, just stay at work, I'll be fine here 'till you come back, I can still take care of myself you know; the only things that have really changed are my height and weight, I can deal with it." Tony didn't want to admit to himself that given the odd circumstances he did want the older man here with him, if not to assure him he wasn't slowly shrinking away to nothing, than to just be there for the sake of not going through the whole thing along. But he couldn't very well tell him that. His father had told him enough times through out his childhood not to depend on others, not to be a coward, it made you weak. And DiNozzos' are not weak.

It sounded busy in the bullpen, he couldn't take Gibbs away from that simply because he was frightened. "Like hell, we wrapped up the Peterson Case, the paperwork can wait 'till tomorrow, I'll be home in ten." with that, he hung up the phone, giving Tony zero chance at retaliation.

If he smiled as he put his cell back on the counter, it certainly wasn't relief, he told himself.

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Abby had him wrapped up in her arms the second she saw him. "You're so tiny!"

Tim balked. "You're like, twelve."

"Thirteen, McGoober." Tony corrected, trying to wiggle out of Abbys death-grip hug. "Anyway, what are you guys doing here?"

"The Bossman sent us. They got another case shortly after you called them and couldn't leave, so he took Ziva and Kate with him, McGee bought his laptop and stuff to work from here, and I don't have any evidence 'till they come back, and that could take a few hours."

Tony just barely hid the dissapointment that wegded itself in his chest at the news. He loved Abby and McGee was fun to poke at, but he'd really wanted Gibbs to have shown up too. For some reason his stupid heart was relating this letdown to every other letdown his Father had provided for him growing up. He'd missed all his soccer games, all his football games when he'd become quarter-back, he'd even joined the mathletes (and was damned good too) so that his father would think it worth his time and come to at least one of the competitions, but nothing.

Even when his Mother had been alive, when he was younger, neither of them had personally taken him to his first day of pre-school or kindergarden or first grade. Neither had ever gone to any of their plays, not the one about the planets and the sun, not the one about healthy vegies, and not the one about anti-bullying. He'd always worked hard to get the big parts, in hopes that if either of them came to see him, they'd smile and clap and be proud, like all the other parents of his classmates. There was always a hidden dissapointment everytime he looked out at the crowd of parents filming their children, and never once spotted his amongst them.

He shook his head. But this was different. Gibbs had a legit excuse. And at least he'd sent appropriate replacements, and he didn't even really have to, because Gibbs wasn't his dad or anything close to that. He was his Boss, and Tony counted himself lucky that he'd even been let to stay here while his body was still being affected by the drug.

So, with a heavy heart, he smiled up at the two, and let Abby drag him outside to the car, where she'd stored some goodies, ranting on about Gibbs house not being 'child-friendly' then pausing and ammending quickly 'or adult-friendly...or like, not friendly to anyone except his team-friendly.' she'd nodded at her specific description and pulled him along the street.

**A/N! Review Please! Wish it could've been longer, next one will be! Now click the button down there and make my day :D **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N! Slept over a friends house, passed out around 3am, got my face drawn on by permanent marker, woke up at 4am, wrote this chapter, waited till 7am when they finally went to sleep, got my revenge (insert evil laughter here), got home, and typed this down! :) ENJOY! :) **

**Six**.

"IF I AM correct-"

"And you always are." Abby piped up.

Ducky smiled at the young Goth, "Why thank you for the vote of confidence Abigail-"

Gibbs glared at both of them. "If you're correct, what?"

Ducky continued, "Oh yes, if I am correct, Anthony should start portraying signs of, well, teenage angst? Hmm, I don't know if I am explaining this quite as well as I would like. This isn't exactly in my realm of expertise, as you already know."

"What do you mean teen angst? Is that even a real thing?" Kate wondered aloud.

"Certainly so, Caitlyn." the doctor replied. "The usual sleeping late, waking up in the middle of the afternoon, being self-concious, eating like his stomach is a black hole, his moods might be a little 'quirky'," Ducky went on, "His love of music may differ, and it will certainly sound as if he's popping his own eardrums while listening to new alternative things his brain-which is now still developing, will be telling the young lad is more pleasurable than harmful, and of course, I hate to say it, but he will at times be rude, and things that didn't bother him before will more than likely be a bother now. Say, for example, he might roll his eyes more, he may find being seen with any one of us embarrasing. Normal American teenage things." Ducky finished.

McGee furrowed his brow. "But he's still Tony, twenty seven year-old Tony, just stuck in a thirteen year-old version of himself. He can't really act that way, can he? I mean, he was seventeen just two days ago, a teenager, and except for cursing a lot, rolling his eyes at me a lot, and being more uh..."

"Sexual Tim," Ziva cut in helpfully. "He made more comments about womens' behinds than usual last week."

McGee nodded, "Yeah, that. I mean, besides those few changes, he's still our Tony, I don't really think any of those things can apply to him, even if he is thirteen, Ducky."

Ducky nodded, "I understand what you mean, Timothy, but here is the thing I would like to take better time to further explain." he said. "As a seventeen year old, he was almost to the age of adult-hood, wherein he could still in some minor ways connect with his older twenty-seven year old self better, and therefore keep intact that which is himself. However, there is no way that a thirteen year old, a young boy who is at the brink of puberty and all of these other confusing changes can possibly find anything in common with a twenty-seven year old with a stable career, his own apartment, etcetera etcetrera, you see this, yes?"

Everyone nodded and the doctor continued. "What I am saying is that as Anthonys' age regresses he will be more afflicted with these kinds of things and his adult mind will be less and less in control of what he does and says and therefore, I am simply asking that you try to understand him and his behaviour during this time, and attempt not to, as he would say 'blow a gasket' if he does something that doesn't seem age appropriate for the twenty-seven year-old Anthony we know. If he gets more irritable than usual, or has odd interests and so on, his speech patterns will probably be more juvenile, things like that." Ducky told the team and the forensic expert.

"So, basically, he's going to be a teenager and we should all be scared." Kate surmised.

"In so many words, yes." Ducky agreed, with a chuckle.

_"You taste like whiskey when you kiss me oh, I'd give anything again to be your baby doll, this time I'm not leavin' without you, you said 'sit back down where you belong, in the corner of my bar with your high heels on'!" _In that moment, Tony chose to come into the room, headphones on, Abbys ipod blasting in his ears, red hoodie on, sporting fitted, faded blue jeans, ripped at the knees, rocking his head back and forth, eyes down, as he pressed buttons on the ipod, the small contraption lighting up. Palmer rushed in behind him with lunch for everyone.

"Speak of the devil!" Abby yelled, to get Tonys' attention, which only succeeded in making him turn up the music and shoot her a scathing glare. He haughtily grabbed a chair from Ducks office and bought it to the farthest corner of the room and sat down, not bothering to say hi to anyone or make conversation.

This had been why they'd had the meeting in the first place. Tony had been moody as hell these past three days since he'd turned thirteen. He barely talked to anyone, and the one time he had cracked even a half a smile was when Abby had told him he could borrow her ipod, telling him high-blast music always made her feel better.

"He's listening to Lady Gaga; his interests have definately morphed." Abby told the group. His communication skills lately had consisted of music lyrics and a not-so-subtle roll of the eyes.

For the first time in those seven days since Tony had changed and started living with Gibbs, the team felt sorry for Gibbs who had to go home with a moody teenager, instead of the other way around.

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Tonys' attitude hadn't changed any, as he slumped on the couch, music still on blast, when they got to Gibbs house.

Gibbs had never dealt personally with a teenager, but he sure as hell remembered being that age, back-talking to his father, making a fight out of everything, just wanting to be left alone. So Jethro did just that, he silently left the room, went down to the basement, figured he'd give the kid what he wanted.

As he sanded his boat, Gibbs thought back on the last three days. The case had taken up two of those days, and he'd barely seen Tony; McGee and Abby had been called back only an hour after they'd arrived to his home to make sure Tony had been alright, and they hadn't come back that day or the day after. Tony had been by himself for the most part of those two days, and Gibbs hadn't really had the chance to call, so enveloped in the case he had been.

Yesterday, Gibbs had brought to work an oddly silent youth, who wouldn't look at him in the eye, had back-talked to Ducky, had told Ziva in an irritated tone to "learn English already", had broken McGees' keyboard by "accident", and had snorted at Kate when she offered his a tofu wrap and told her it didn't matter how many of those she ate, because she was getting "fat" anyway. Abby giving him her ipod had been the one thing to save her from any mistreatment.

Even at times during those two days when Gibbs had been able to get a hold of Tony on the phone, he'd known something was off. His answers were one word responses, and he'd hung up on him mid-sentence so many times that Gibbs was begining to get a taste of his own medicine. He had to wonder briefly if there was something wrong with Tony. Besides the obvious and all that teen angst his old friend Ducky had been rammbling about earlier that day.

Jethro missed Tony. He'd gotten used to living with someone who's company he actually enjoyed, again. None of his ex-wives had ever provided that feeling of familiarity and notalgia for him. The last week living with Tony had bought him a comfort and a feeling of...of what, he couldn't really say, except that he enjoyed sitting down to dinner together, talking about sports and books and work and the team. He enjoyed coming home to a home-cooked meal, he enjoyed coming home to see Tony, he enjoyed teaching him how to work on the boat in the basement, he liked that Tony took the time to chastise him about things like eating habits and too much caffine, and his reckless driving, and his rising blood preasure, reminded him to wear his reading glasses-because all these things meant he cared.

Seeing Tony like this now, being completely un-Tony made Gibbs think maybe the sudden change in attitude wasn't entirely just do to teenage angst. With that, he got up, marched up the stairs, and to the living room, expecting to see the moody thirteen year-old hunched over on the couch, permanent scowl on his face as he listened to Abbys' cacophony of music.

Instead he saw the youth huddled into the couch, ipod on the a small table, head phones on the floor, teen fast asleep. "Hey, Tony, wake up. C'mon." he shook the boy gently. Getting no response, he swept Tony up in his arms, surprised at how light he was, and carried his limp body into the guest room. He plopped him down softly on the bed and set to work, pulling the semi-oversized hoodie off of him, and the tattered jeans as well, leaving him in only his boxers and a white tee.

"...Dad." Tony mummbled, still quite asleep.

The word nearly tore at Gibbs heart and he didn't know why. Of course Tony would want a blood-relative at a time like this, when he was surely at a loss. So why did hearing the boy call out for his father make him feel so useless? Gibbs left the room before he could hear anymore, his chest suddenly feeling much too heavy.

Tony squirmed and tossed and turned in the bed, brows furrowing, "Gibbs..." he cried out softly, the word barely registerable. "Mmm...Gibbs...whe're you?" Tonys' small frame curled into itself. He'd felt so alone those two days, and he knew they were all just doing their jobs, solving a case, had hid his dissapointment well when Abby and McGee had to rush and leave on that first day. No tv, no one to call really and talk to, not the way he sounded currently, anyway, just a lot of empty time and his own thoughts to consume said time.

Which had only gotten him depressed, if he was honest with himself. He had still wanted Gibbs to be there, even though he knew at the time that was impossible. They were working a case. Then that nasty thought had popped into his head. _'Work always comes first Junior, you know that.' _

Tony had nearly lost it. _No no no no no! Gibbs is _nothing _like that man! _He'd told himself repeatedly. Gibbs cared about him, even if work did come first sometimes! Gibbs wasn't drunk everyday, if he was ever angry there was a legitamite reason as to why! He didn't lash out at people for no reason. He didn't ignore Tony. He didn't strike Tony. He didn't forget about Tony in Maui when he was twelve for two days...

But he did leave him for two days in this empty house, called maybe twice to check up on him-more than his Father had ever done. Tony had shaken his head. No, it wasn't the same thing at all! But it was getting harder to distinguish the moments apart. Because as lonely and miserable as he'd been those two days at the Hilton Hotel, was how he'd felt those two days when just about everyone had left him...knowingly this time.

Tony twisted in his bed, the thoughts in his subconscious rising to the surface. "Gibbs..." he called out in his sleep, becoming more and more restless. "Gibbs!" he became louder, flailed harder, the sheets were half off the bed by now. "Gibbs!" he cried.

Jethro ran across the hall and into the room Tony occupied in record time. If his bad knee popped slightly as he ran to the thirteen year-olds' bedside, it was ignored. "Hey hey, shh, it's okay, it's okay, I'm here Tony." he soothed the distraught young man, gently swiping the hair from his forehead.

Tonys' green eyes opened up then, glazed over, as he was still half asleep. "Gibbs..." he uttered. "Missed you." he murmured, taking hold of the older mans hand clumsily. "Don'leamme." he pleaded, eyes desperate and lost. "_Please_."

Gibbs swallowed hard. "Scoot over." he climbed into the bed with the boy, wrapped his arms around the small frame, felt his body relax, watched as Tonys' breathing regulated, and eventually he went to sleep again, head nuzzled into Gibbs neck, body tucked into his.

Was that it? He'd missed him? Was that the real reason for the attitude the past three days? Gibbs tightened his hold on the teen. "Don't worry Tony, I'm right here. I won't leave you again." he kissed the top of his head, feeling so at ease with the boy in his arms that he too soon enough went to sleep. Gibbs had not felt so at home, so safe, so warm, so at ease to close his eyes and slumber in this house since his wife and child had been murdered.

Here and now, with Tony curled into him, snoring lightly, one hand gripping at his shirt, the other tucked beneath him, Gibbs slept soundly.

**A/N! Liked? REVIEW! Free (imaginary) Tony plush dolls for everyone who reviews! :D BTW! OH MY GOD, Thank you so much for all the reviews in my prior chapter, you're all awesome 3 And thank you to everyone reading so far, everyone who put this story on alert or in their favorites! I appreciate it soooo much! :D AND! I hope everyones' doing alright in light of Hurricaine Irene! STAY INDOORS OR EVACUATE IF WARNED! :O Stay safe guys!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N! Wooh! Reached a hundred reviews :D I'm so happy! Thank you guys! Sadly, I don't think this chapter will be very up to par, because writers block is a real bitch and she's got her claws in me! *sigh* So, hopefully you guys enjoy it. :l **

**Seven**.

"ACHOO!"

Two days later, the flu spread like an epidemic around the office. Tony coughed into his tissue, nose stuffy and red, throat sore, head aching, he wanted nothing more than to go to Gibbs home, lay down for twenty four hours, and just sleep this whole thing away. Instead, he'd been dragged to hicksville in nowheres' town, with the rest of the team, Abby, Duck, and Palmer.

Team Gibbs had been sent to solve another case, this time in a town several hours away from DC and everyone had been required to come, including the two doctors and their resident forensic genius. Knowing they would be gone overnight for at least three days to a week, Jethro didn't feel safe leaving Tony at home alone again, and had brought him in the van with them. At least then, he'd be in a hotel, not far from the crime scene, and upon returning to the hotel every night, they'd get to see eachother, Gibbs figured.

However, he hadn't counted on Tony catching the flu that had been going around DC lately. Unfortunately, before they could go to the hotel, check in, and let Tony get some rest, they had to head to the crime scene, seeing as the sky was looking particularly dark, almost as if it were going to rain soon enough, and if the evidence was washed up before they got to it, the case would be that much harder to solve. So Gibbs parked the van, told Tony to stay in the van, and he and his team set about working the scene, tagging and bagging evidence, sketching and taking photographs, and so on.

Tony coughed, tugged his jacket tighter around his body as another shiver ran through his body, and looked out the window of the van longingly. He missed being able to work with his team, hated being left on the sidelines. He stifled a sigh and burrowed himself further into his seat, looking the poster boy for miserable. A sudden, shooting pain lanced up his right shoulder, and it nearly took his breath away. _That _wasn't normal. He held his shoulder close to him, willing the ache to go away, when the same shooting pain took hold of his other shoulder and Tony gasped, arms trembling now with pain.

Tony stumbbled out of the car, falling to his knees roughly when another sharp pain ran up his legs and made them buckle. He groaned in agony, attempted to get back up, get some help, only to fall back down to his knees. "Gibbs..." he coughed, feeling particularly weak. Then something worse, a horrible crack resounded from his back, cracks from his shoulder, his knees, his nose began to bleed profusely, and he screamed.

"I am quite sure that the John Doe was-" Ziva was in the middle of theorizing where their victim had actually been last night before his consequential death, when they all heard it. The most agonizingly, blood-curdling shriek they'd ever heard. Horror movies would have gladly cast the screamer.

Gibbs turned his head toward the direction of the awful screaming and his blood ran cold when he saw, from a few yards away, Tonys' form, outside of the car, huddled on the ground. The teams reaction was all one in the same. They ran toward the van, Ducky and Palmer not far behind. Abby, who had tagged along with Duck, running faster than anyone thought possible in high healed, spiked boots.

Gibbs was the first to reach the thirteen year-old, who was still screaming for dear life, barely catching his breath. "Tony, what's wrong? What happened?" Gibbs had never felt this kind of panic before.

Tonys one trembling hand reached out for Gibbs, he let out a choked sob, "Help me..." he begged, "Please, oh God, please." Gibbs took his shaking frame into his arms, let him writhe and scream and plead for help, feeling absolutely useless in light of his sons' pain.

"Duck, do something, please." he in turn begged the doctor, who for the first time in history, was at a loss for words, rummaging through his bag, hoping to find something, anything to end the boys pain.

Abbys eyes had welled with tears, and she held onto McGee for support, who in turn held onto her, his heart breaking with every agonized gasp and strangled sob his partner let out. Kate was standing stock still, gripping the cross around her neck like a lifeline. Ziva wanted to solve this problem, the way she'd done at the hospital, but they weren't in a hospital, and they didn't know what was wrong with their boy, and she felt like hitting something!

Palmer ran back from the truck, with a number of injections. "I-I don't know which one would better work for this situation, but I've got pain killers and morphine and tranqui-"

Ducky took the injection with morphine in it without a single word and injected Tonys' arm after finding a vein. It would be a temporary relief at most, but a relief none the less. Tony slowly but surely calmed down, still panting, but not screaming bloody-mary anymore. His trembling body slumped down onto Gibbs arms, eyes drooping, he passed out.

In the van, Gibbs sat in the backseat, holding the unconcious boy close to his body, as Ziva drove, breaking every speed limit known to mankind until they reached the hotel. This clearly wasn't normal, what was happening to Tony, who was still moaning and writhering about in Gibbs arms every now and then, and they couldn't take him to a hospital, where chances were, the doctors would figure out this 'phenomenon' and take Tony away from them.

They all noticed how Tonys' clothes were suddenly engulfing him. "I don't get it." Kate said from the front seat. "His last two 'changes' went off without a hitch, why was he in so much pain this time?"

McGee nodded in agreement from the backseat. "And he's still in pain." he pointed out worridly. "Does this mean he's still regressing in age?" In the last few minutes he'd gone from thirteen to about six years-old. Everyone was in a state of astoundment and fear for their young companions life.

Unfortunately, no one had any answers.

**A.N! Just wanna' say, I know you all might be thinking he's de-aging a little too quickly, but don't worry, just stay tuned for the next chapter and review, yeah? Thanks. :) Sorry for the shortness of this chapter BTW :0**


	8. Chapter 8

It was nearly six by the time Tony opened his eyes again. Everything hurt, from his head right down to his toes. He woke up in a large bed, Abby at his side, fast asleep, mascara smeared across her eyes, pig tails a mess. Tony rubbed his eyes, feeling very out of it. He saw McGee sitting on a chair next to the bed, where he and Abby lay, his mac was on his lap and he too was dead to the world, a line of drool running down his chin.

Tony wanted Gibbs, though. He looked around the room, realized the older man wasn't there, and decided to go and find him. He could barely reach the floor, he was so short, and had to grip at the covers with his tiny fingers to keep from falling over. Once he was on the ground though, he realized how big everything was in comparison to himself. His undeveloped brain not questioning why he was so small all of a sudden, Tony counted himself very lucky that the door to their hotel room was slightly ajar, because there would have been no way he could have reached the handle.

Pushing the door further open, he walked off, wondering where Gibbs could have gone.

A young couple vacationing in the hotel walked the halls, on their way down to the pool when they spotted the toddler walking about. "Oh Johnny, look at that little boy, how old do you think he is?"

Johnny shrugged, "He looks to be my nieces age-can't be older than four. Where do you think his parents are?" he asked, in a disapproving voice.

Jennifer, who hated getting involved in things, pushed her boyfriend along with her. "Who knows." she said, as they walked off.

Tony was starting to get frustrated. Gibbs was no where to be found and he'd been walking for what seemed like hours. He'd thought about going back to Abby and Tim, but had realized with a start that he didn't know where 'back' was. All these halls looked the same and he hadn't bothered looking at the numbers on the door, something he now regretted not doing. "Boss?" he called out, biting his lip and trying to keep the tears at bay. As a child, he couldn't remember ever not being forgotten or left behind at some random hotel. "Boss?"

"T-Tony?" Palmer stuttered when he saw the toddler. He was a lot smaller than when he'd seen him in the crime scene a few hours ago. He'd been small, maybe six or seven, but this was outrageous. He looked to be three or four, at most. He had to be mistaken; but then, he couldn't see any other four year-old calling out for their 'Boss'.

The toddler stumbled a bit as he turned around, round green eyes starting to water. "Jimmy!" he raised his hands almost immediately, wanting badly to be picked up off the ground.

Palmer swooped the little boy into his arms, cradling him for a good minute before sighing in relief. Definitely Tony. They'd all been frantically searching for him for a good hour now, Abby and McGee feeling particularly guilty over falling asleep we they were on shift to watch the boy, and Gibbs feeling doubly guilty for having forgotten to close the door all the way when he'd left the room. He took out his cell phone and dialed for Gibbs number, as the toddler sucked his thumb, head laying against Jimmys' collar bone. As far as kids went, Tony seriously had to be the most adorable thing since Shirley Temple.

"Gibbs, I found him, I'm headed back to the room right now!" He spoke into the phone quickly, trying to keep from stuttering, his feet already making their way to the hotel elevator. He wondered briefly how Tony had climbed all those stairs with his chubby little stub of legs.

Gibbs was the first to get back to the room, relief practically radiating off him, but, seeing as how this was Gibbs, the relief came in the form of anger. "Damn it DiNozzo! What the hell were you thinking? You might look four, but I'll be damned if you start acting it! Running off without telling anyone? You had me worried half to death! What's wrong with you? Didn't you think? No, of course not-"

Both Jimmy and Gibbs were shocked to see tears welling in the large eyes of the toddler. And they certainly hadn't expected the boy to start outright _crying_. Gibbs couldn't remember the amount of times he'd reprimanded his senior field agent, and couldn't tell why he was reacting in this way. When Gibbs went to comfort the child, he felt his heart sink as Tony shrunk away from his touch, huddling into Jimmys' plaid shirt for protection. Palmer couldn't help but feel protective of the baby boy, and tried to sooth him, rocking him back and forth gently.

Minutes later, Abby ran in, followed by Ziva, Tim, Kate and Duck. "Oh my God, why is he crying, is he hurt? Oh God, did he fall down the stairs?" Abby swooped the boy off Palmer and cradled him tight, inspecting him for any injuries. "We're so sorry we fell asleep on you honey, please don't cry. Why'd you run off like that? You nearly croaked, I was so scared!" she hugged him tight to her bosom.

He sniffled, "Had to find Gibbs." he explained very solemnly. "Missed him."

Later, it was explained to the agents, by the oh so knowledgeable Doctor Mallard, that Anthony was now not only regressing in age physically, but mentally as well. Gibbs thought it explained Tonys' reaction to his outburst, and it gnawed at him; he hadn't been reprimanding his twenty-eight year-old senior field agent. He'd yelled at a four year-old who'd gone off to look for him because he'd 'missed him'. Tony had fallen asleep a while ago, all tuckered out from crying, and each of them were still on edge, and didn't want to even think about losing him again, so they all took turns cradling the little boy in his sleep, while they looked over their case files and discussed topics ranging from their petty officers' death to Tonys' current condition.

"He's so tiny." Abby remarked, playing with his hair, as Tim looked down at the boy in his arms, practically weightless, one very petite hand gently clutching at of his work shirt, making creases McGee didn't mind having to iron out the next morning.

"Yeah." he agreed. "He was bigger in the car, on our way back from the crime scene." he pointed out the obvious. "Like, six or something."

"Correct Timothy." Ducky spoke up. "The chemical is unfortunately quite unpredictable and therefore we have no way of telling whether he will skip four years in one week, and eight the next. This time, however, he morphed twice, and the first time was so incredibly painful he passed out on us, the poor lad."

Ziva wondered, "Since he cannot grasp his adult self mentally anymore, this means he will now be acting like a child, then?"

"Exactly." he replied.

Kate asked the question no one really wanted to ask, even though it had been on all of their minds for a while now. "What'll happen to him when he keeps regressing younger and younger? He's four now, it looks as if the whole regressing thing is speeding up, and I mean...what if it comes to the point where-"

"We won't let it come to that." Gibbs interrupted sternly, and no one dared argue with the conviction in his tone, even if he himself wasn't so sure about it.

Two hours later, it was nearly midnight, and the girls were sent to their rooms, the men to theirs, while Gibbs and Tony shared a room. He'd been expecting to room with a thirteen year-old but plans had clearly changed drastically over the course of the day. Either way, he tucked the boy in and went to his own bed, exhausted after the day they'd had.

Tony woke up around 3am to a dark room, and fright gripped at him instantly. He waited a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and looked around. Seeing a figure on the bed a few feet next to his, a curious four year-old tumbled out of bed and climbed very expertly onto Gibbs. The older man was sound asleep. Tony stifled a sneeze. With all the commotion of the day, he'd nearly ignored his cold, but now that things had more or less settled, he didn't feel all that great.

The toddler shook Gibbs hand slightly, "Boss." he said, sounding very miserable. "I don't feel good. Get Ducky." Still, Gibbs stayed asleep.

It occurred to the adult still semi-conscious inside of Tony that this wasn't normal. He'd made quite a ruckus getting up and out of bed and was practically sat on top of the older man-Gibbs was not the heavy sleeper type.

Tony really didn't feel good. His nose was runny, his head was achy, and his stomach churned. "Boooooss." he half-sobbed, half-whined.

And suddenly, he felt a large rough hand clamp at his mouth, another wrap around his small frame. Just as he started struggling and attempting to scream, a menacing voice whispered into his ear. "Don't bother, little boy, he cannot hear you." And then the toddler felt a sting against his neck and his eyes rolled back into his head, body going completely limp.

"Subject is obtained." the man with the accent spoke into his ear piece, cradling the four year-old as if he were his own, so that downstairs at reception no one would be any the wiser as to the boys abduction.

**A.N! Thanks for reading, I'll be updating soon! Review and tell me what you guys thought? Thanks :) **


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N. Finished my English, Creative Writing, and Med. Terminology homework (like a pro) and decided to sit down and write this chapter down! Enjoy!**

**Nine**.

You know that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach you have suddenly when you get off a bus and realize you left your cell phone or something of value in one of the passenger seats?

That's the kind of feeling Abby awoke with at nearly half past four in the morning. She silently checked the beds of her roomies, and seeing nothing amiss, she snuck out to the boys room, where she met Timmy, just outside their door. "Whoa, someone looks good with bed hair." she commented slyly, before going into serious mode. "Why up so late? ...Or early, whatever."

Tim shrugged. "Something feels off." he admitted. "Why are you awake?"

Abbys' eyes widened. "Same reason."

For a moment, their thoughts synced, and they both muttered "Tony..." before rushing to Gibbs room in a panic. They all had keys to each others' rooms, just for precautions sake, so Abby unlocked the door quickly and stumbled in the dark for a minute before Tim found the light switch.

The first thing Abigail noticed that was out of place was Gibbs' reaction. He stayed asleep, didn't move even a bit. And that was odd in itself. Gibbs could sleep soundly in an aircraft, but put him in a bed, a tiny pin drops, and he'll shoot out of bed and aim a gun at your head.

And the worst thing she noticed was the empty bed next to his. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, where's Tony? Tony, honey! Hiding isn't nice!" She called out, as she got to her knees and looked under both beds, in the closet and in the bathroom. Meanwhile, Tim tried to shake Gibbs awake, to no avail.

One hour later, the Gibbs team was in a panic and Ducky had confirmed with the blood sample he'd taken from his old friend that Gibbs had indeed been drugged.

"Ah, he's coming around now." Ducky noted.

**Meanwhile...**

"The boy is coming around."

Dr. Rosenberg stared at the small boy, as he awoke. "Hello Anthony." The four year-old sat up on the metal examination table, and looked about the white plain lab, utterly confused.

"I want Gibbs." he requested, voice very soft.

"In due time." the man replied.

Tony was rather small for a four year old, the doctor noted in his pad, and he was what most people would deem quite adorable, with tussled light brown hair, round, large green eyes, and a cherubic little face.

"I'm hungry." the boy whined, swinging his tiny legs on the metal table, distracted by most everything in the doctors laboratory.

Dr. Rosenberg raised a brow at the toddler, then looked to his body guard. "Get some breakfast for the three of us."

The man looked at the tiny boy, who was staring up at him with a hopeful expression. "What does it eat?"

Dr. Rosenberg had never dealt with children himself, either, and wondered at this too, and inspected Tonys' teeth, while the child squirmed uncomfortably. "He seems to have most of his teeth grown in, buy a few meals from the pancake house down the highway, yes?"

The guard nodded and left the premises.

"Anthony," the doctor snapped his fingers, noting the four year-olds lack of attention span. His adult mind was clearly pretty much gone, and his brain now was as undeveloped as a normal four year-olds. The doctor wrote this down on his note pad, "Do you still recall your team?" he inquired, raising his thin rimmed glasses to the top of his nose.

Tony looked up at the stranger, not really sure what was going on, but his ears perked up when the older man mentioned his team mates. "Mhm," he nodded eagerly. "Where's Gibbs?" the toddler looked around the room, bent his head so far down that he nearly lost his balance on the table, and fell.

Slightly alarmed, the doctor grabbed the boy, in a very unconventional manner, and lifted him by the arm pits, back onto the metal examination table and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him. "Stay, yes?"

Tony blinked. "I'm hungry." he repeated, "I want Gibbs."

The doctor frowned. This is why he hated working with these small drooling beings. He hadn't a single clue as to how to deal with it-_him_, he corrected silently in his head. He felt a tugging on his arm and looked down. "What?" he asked, letting some frustration leak through.

The toddler scowled. "I want Gibbs!" he wiped a tiny hand on his face, clearly getting closer to a tantrum as his requests went unheard.

Dr. Rosenberg sighed. "If you do not shut your mouth, you will not see your boss ever again, is that clear?" he said, his tone stern.

Tony huddled into himself, and nodded slowly but apprehensively. "Yes sir." he didn't want to get hit, after all; his father had always gotten mad at him for getting talking too much as a child.

The doctor nodded, "Good, now, tell me what you can remember of your team mates and other things from your life, as well." he started scribbling down info as the boy spoke.

"I 'member Gibbs, and Zeevah; she can kill people with paper clips." he got enthusiastic suddenly, eager to be able to tell this adult about the people at NCIS he loved so much, and the doctor wrote in his pad about his emotional state being fast-changing and unstable.

"I think she's a ninja, like, from the power rangers, but cooler. And McGoo, he's an elf Lord," Tony giggled. "He makes me laugh. Caity, she used to prote't the pres'dent, but Gibbs got her to come to us instead, and she's always trying to take the front seat in the van, and when Gibbs lets her win, I get mad sometimes, because I like sitting next to Gibbs." Tony confessed, his childish innocence showing.

"And Abby," he grinned widely, "She wears a white coat like you, e'cept she's really pretty and has 'lots a tattoos!" he gushed excitedly, "I like 'em, and she always gives me Bert when I'm sad. Ducky, he wears a coat like you too, he likes to tell stories, and I always learn some'fin new with him. And I like saying 'Ducky', 'cause I like ducks." Dr. Rosenberg noted how the child digressed.

"Umm, and Palmer, he's the autos-autop-"

"Autopsy?"

Tony nodded, "Mhm, the ausopsy gremlin. But I like him too, 'cause he's really nice, and he stutters lots and I think it's funny." he finished, now playing with a lose string on his too-big shirt sleeve, once again giving into the tinniest distraction available.

As the doctor continued to observe the four year-old and take notes, his guard walked in, a large plastic bag in one hand, a coffee tray in the other. As soon as Dr. Rosenberg had his white plastic container of food and his cup of coffee, extra sugar, he excused himself and went to his office, telling his body guard to feed and look after the tiny thing on the table.

The large man stared at the child, taking out two separate white containers from the bag, and putting one next to the boy, an orange juice carton placed beside it. He took his own, plus his hot beverage, and sat on a dark chair opposite the metal table, so that he could eat and watch the kid simultaneously.

Tony, ever the curious child, asked, as his stubby little fingers attempted to open the white Styrofoam container, "Whas' your name? My name is Tony. You're really big, like, hulk big. I think thas' really cool, but I bet in a fight my boss would still win, 'cause he's really really tough, and he prote'ts allov' us." Tony smiled. "Are you a wrestler? Abby bets on fights sometimes, I think she's got a gamblin' problem, so we don't let her go to casinos of'en." he informed the man avidly.

The guard let a small smirk play on his lips. "You can call me Don, and yeah, you could say I'm kind of a wrestler." he got up and helped the struggling four year-old open his container, his smile growing a bit when Tonys' eyes lit up.

"I love pancakes, they're really yummy, thanksh." the toddler said, stuffing his tiny face with the diners' soft round pancakes.

The guard wondered briefly if he should have cut the food to small pieces before giving it to the little squirt. He shook his head, as he sat back down, he wasn't a babysitter. But even he had to admit, the kid did look damn cute sitting there, swinging his legs, shoving food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days.

"Foods' not goin' anywhere, kid." he chastised softly, deciding to get up once again, cutting the pancakes and eggs into small, bite size pieces, after all.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**.

"ACHOO!" Tony sneezed loudly, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and coughing quite miserably.

Dr. Rosenberg was not pleased at all. He did not need a sick test subject in his hands. "How long have you had this flu, can you remember?"

Tony looked up at him with teary eyes from the sneezing and said, "Since I was thirteen."

Dr. Rosenberg glared at one of his two body guards, Don, when he heard him barely stifle a snicker. "I meant in the span of days, child. Do not get smart with me."

Tony wasn't too sure what he was talking about but replied none the less. "Um, since yesterday morning."

The doctor wrote this down in his notepad. "Has the flu been going around where you live?" he needed to know what percentile chance it was that he'd gotten sick because of the age-reducing gas or just the general low immune system of a child his age.

"Gibbs bought me to NCIS and I think I got it there, because lots of people was sneezing and had red noses like me." he said, swinging his feet back and forth. "Abby says I look like Rudolph."

The doctor barely nodded to the child, "Don, watch the boy. Jacob, with me." he ordered of his guards.

As the two exited the room, Tony had already started playing a game he'd made up earlier that day, wherein he was an explorer in the jungle and had to cross an unsteady log covered in moss to get to safety. The metal table being said log.

Don watched with amusement, right up until the point where Tony lost his balance at the edge of the 'log' and fell. It was only about a two foot drop from the table to the ground, but Don leapt in for the kid, and caught him just in time, his back to the floor, both hands holding up the frightened four year-old, and_ dammit, somebody should have filmed that catch_, he thought, as he scooped the boy up into a better position, and got up from the floor.

Tonys' bottom lip started to tremble, and Don had never worked with children before, but anyone could tell just by looking that Tony was about to burst into tears. And burst he did.

"Shh, shh, you're okay, you're fine." he tried to assure him, not sure what else to do.

He sobbed, "I want Gibbs!" his tiny hands wiped at his eyes.

Don started. He'd been begging to see the older man since they'd first gotten a hold of him, and for some reason, this time, to hear those words actually stung, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

"Dammit!" Gibbs slammed his fist against a desk. "It's been fifteen hours since Tony was kidnapped and we've got nothing!" he was frustrated and pissed off and worried like crazy and he wanted Tony back _now_. Anybody could have taken him! And seeing as Tony wasn't supposed to be a four year-old, team Gibbs couldn't go to the local authorities and ask for help in locating their senior field agent. Things would get out of hand, surely.

Abby was at the police station running the prints they'd found in Gibbs room and matching it against the data base here, pretending it was for their prior case, but the technology in this town was much less advanced than at D.C., so she was having trouble trying to speed the testing along.

McGee was tracking down former people who had a grudge on Tony and might have known about his reversal and taken him.

Kate was tracking down former people who had a grudge on Gibbs and might have taken Tony to get back at him.

And Ziva was tracking down the former co-workers of the deceased mad scientist who had De-aged their friend in the first place, taking a shot in the dark.

Gibbs couldn't help but think, 'What if all those things I said in anger when we found him in the hallway end up being the last words I say to him?', a horrible feeling of cold dread making his heart stop momentarily.

He needed to find Tony...

**A.N. Sorry for the mega shortness!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A.N. Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews (though I feel like I cheated since in reality that last chapter should have been MUCH longer and things actually should have occurred ._. It was like...a very lame filler, so for that I apologize. Sorry!) But this one is a lot more action packed and I hope you all like it and review and give your awesome imputs and opinions regarding this fic (hint hint lol) :D Enjoy! **

**Eleven. **

TONY WAS ABSOLUTELY miserable.

The only part of his adult brain still functioning consisted of his memory bank. He still remembered his team, Abby, Ducky, Palmer, and general parts of his life as an NCIS agent, but a lot of it was blurry and he found himself doing very childish things, like playing pretend and sobbing outright when ever Doctor Rosenberg came over to inject him with more experimental drugs.

Day three of his captivation and his cold still persisted and Gibbs was still M.I.A. Tony wiped tears that suddenly sprung up.

"Does your arm hurt again?" Don came up behind him, wondering why the toddler had started crying quietly. The poor kid had been through hell these past couple of days. Dr. Rosenberg had gone needle-happy collecting massive amounts of the four year-olds blood for samples to test and injecting him with like some lab rat and recording the subtle changes. Tonys' little arms were bruised where he'd been injected countless times over the past forty eight hours, ugly colors like purple and green scattered across his forearm; they'd become quite sensitive and Don had convinced the doctor to lay off for a few hours and let the tender skin heal for a bit.

Tony shook his head, even though his tender arms throbbed still. "I miss Gibbs." he sniffled, his lower lip trembling. The toddler lay down on the metal table he'd grown far too accustomed to lately and curled up, tears running down his cheeks in a sideways motion now. "M'tired and I miss Gibbs and I want Abbys hugs and McGoos' geekiness and Zivas threats and Kates fighting and Duckys stories and the Gremlins stutter-ene and," he sobbed. "I want to go home."

Don sighed and picked up the crying toddler, noting with concern that he'd gotten a lot lighter since yesterday. He knew they hadn't been withholding any meals-he was the one who fed the kid after all, so if it wasn't malnutrition, Don wondered what it could possibly be, as he paced the room, rocking the four year-old back and forth in hopes of soothing him.

**Outside an obscure, seemingly abandoned warehouse, team Gibbs was positioned, armed and ready to fire at will. **

**Gibbs gave silent signals to the team mates who were in sight and turned his radio on. "Everyone in position?" **

**Three voices chorused, "In position Boss." over the head set. **

**It had taken three horrible, nightmarish days, but here they were. Gibbs hoped this wasn't their second dead lead in almost seventy-two hours since Tony had gone missing. **

"What is with the tears again?" the doctor glared at the bundle in Dons arms. "This is ridiculous, none stop crying." he shook his head. "Jacob, take the boy and hold him down so that he does not struggle this time." he ordered, knowing Don was getting too close to this child, as he prepared the next injection.

Don reluctantly gave up the small toddler to the more stoic guard of the two and tried not to flinch when Tonys wailing only got louder in the hands of the brute. Jacob held the four year-old down as he tried to get up from under his tight grip. "Gibbs!" he bawled, his tiny chest heaving harshly.

Don was no saint; he'd done awful things in his lifetime, committed crimes he probably should have rotted in jail for, even, but he'd never taken part in harming someone so small and...Don gulped, someone who resembled his deceased son so much. He'd never been in his childs' life before he passed in that freak car accident all those years ago-hadn't even tried, in fact, and every single day he regretted it.

"You're hurting him!" Don shoved Jacob out of the way roughly and took Tony very abruptly from the table and ran out of the room fast as he could, the toddler safely cocooned in his arms.

"After that traitor! _Now _Jacob!" he could hear a very pissed off Dr. Rosenberg from across the hall, as he bounded the crickety stairs, taking two to three at a time, very aware he was carrying precious cargo.

**"Lower floor is clear Boss!" **

**"North side is clear too, Boss!" **

Don was running out of air, Jacob was stronger than him physically, and he couldn't very well outrun him forever. He stopped for a quick second and tucked the toddler very gently into a crevice in the buildings' foundation, hoping he could pull off being incognito until...well, he hadn't exactly planned that far ahead yet. "Tony, stay there, don't make a sound if you see Dr. Rosenberg or Jacob, alright? This is the quiet game, so no talking at all, okay?"

Tonys big watery eyes gazed up at him. He knew they were in trouble, but nodded along very slowly, "What about you?" he asked worriedly.

Don smiled reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Now stay there, I'll be back soon, okay? Remember, no noise."

Tony nodded, and was eventually left to stare at the mans' back as he fled, and a few seconds later more pounding foot steps alerted him to Jacobs presence. Tony felt an over whelming sense of relief when the large body guard ran right past him, not spotting him at all, but wondered when Don would be back.

Several minutes later more steps could be heard from right around the corner and Tony knew they were supposed to be playing the quiet game, but he was frightened, he didn't mean to let that whimper escape his lips.

A shadow loomed over the space he was hidden, and Tony closed his eyes tight, put his hands over his head and try as he might, the panic got to him and the small sobs started increasing as the shadow neared his location.

"_Tony_..." the relief in Gibbs voice was palpable, as without a moments' thought he scooped up the petite toddler and held him tight to his chest, his hands trembling, his face buried in the crook of the childs' neck. "Oh Tony, oh thank _God_."

Kate radioed her other two team mates. "We found him!" she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so happy and the feeling all but over took her, and she wiped several stray tears from her eyes. She had barely slept those two nights, and if they hadn't found him today, it would've been her third sleepless night in a row.

Tony clung to his boss, so many emotions stirring inside of him he couldn't think straight. Finally he just let out a heart-wrenching sob, his tiny fingers clutching at the material of Gibbs shirt frantically. "B-boss!" he wailed, his breathes coming in gasps and his face stained with tears. He'd been so afraid, so lonely, he'd missed Gibbs so much it had been unbearable to a point. He'd been mistreated by that doctor, his arms were scattered with terrible bruises and it seemed as if all he'd been doing these past three days consisted of crying, begging to see Gibbs again, and trying to scurry away from all the painful injections he'd been subjected to.

Now he was in his Boss' arms, feeling safe, relieved, over-joyed, at home, and an awful amount of grief for a reason he couldn't quite make sense of. So he cried and cried.

He cried as Gibbs, arms wrapped around the toddlers fragile frame, tread the stairs carefully, Kate behind him, her gun drawn.

He cried as they met up with Ziva and McGee, both with twin looks of utter relief on their faces, as they spotted the three.

He cried when he saw the corpse of Jacob, strewn on the floor, a knife embedded in his chest.

He cried when Ziva manhandled Dr. Rosenberg out of his hiding place in hand cuffs, promising very dreadful things once they got back to NCIS.

And then Tony spotted him.

On the floor, looking soundly asleep, lay Don. That's when Tony realized they'd been playing the quiet game and they'd both broken the rules. With a lot of effort, Tony wiped his tears and withheld his sobs. Gibbs was absolutely shocked when the toddler struggled out of his firm grip and his stubby little legs carried him over to the body guard.

Tony knelt down next to him, shook his shoulder. "Donnie, sleeping is cheating." he pointed out childishly, shook him some more. Harder this time. "Donnie, wake up, the game's over. Look, my Boss is here, he can get us out. We're okay now. Gibbs will keep us safe."

Tony looked up at the older man, "Right Gibbs?"

Gibbs didn't have the words or the heart to tell the four year-old his friend was dead, but the pained look on his face must have said it all. Gibbs expected a new round of sobbing to commence, but was shocked to see the toddler lay on the ground next to the corpse, uncoordinated fingers gripping at the guards t-shirt, placing his head on the mans' chest very gently.

"Donnie..." silent tears rolled down Tonys' cheeks. He was going to miss Donnie.

**A.N. Papa!Gibbs comforting the baby in the next chapter! Review please! Feedback, opinions, imput, etc. are all welcome (and encouraged)! Thanks! :) **


	12. Chapter 12

**TWELVE.**

"TONY, BABY, STOP squirming." Abby begged, as she attempted to change the nine month olds' diapers.

He giggled and kicked his legs up in a fit of joy—Tony had to be the happiest baby Abby had ever seen. Even as an infant, Abby noted with some pride, her Tony had always been a talker. Animatedly, the baby went off on rants every few minutes. No one had any idea what it was he was saying, but he always seemed quite pleased with himself, smiling lopsidedly.

"He is so tiny." Ziva said, stepping into the Goths' lab covertly.

Abby looked down at the little bundle on her desk, a hint of sadness in her eyes, and nodded dully. "I thought after we saved him from the bad guys we'd find a cure and Tony would be okay again—but," she paused, on the verge of tears. "It's only gotten worse, Ziva. It's been four days and he's gone from three years old to nine months, he's getting smaller and smaller and he'll keep getting smaller and then—and then…" just as Abby stifled a sob, baby Tony let out a startling wail that resounded against the four walls of her office. His little hands reached out for Abigail, large green eyes brimming with tears. Ducky had explained to them that infants often reacted in tune with the emotion filling a room, and Tony at the moment, was no different. Abby bounced the baby on her lap, putting on a smile for him, and pecked his chubby cheeks playfully. Tony quickly went back to giggling and waving his hands about enthusiastically.

Ziva sighed, and her index and middle finger tip toed across the infants' head gently, making him squeal happily. Tony adored the attention—something that was very unlike their usual Tony, they'd all acknowledged. When Abby had hugged Tony for the first time, she remembered with a tight grimace, the senior field agent had stiffened immediately and something in his eyes had dulled. It had taken a year for Tony to react any differently, and another year for him to start initiating the hugs, himself.

"The doctor is still claiming to be as clueless as we are about the drug—he insists that he was attempting to reverse the effects of the drugs and turn Tony into an adult again." Ziva recounted to the forensic lab tech.

"If that's true, he made it worse." Abby tried to keep the anger out of her voice when she said it, as she was still holding baby Tony, and didn't want to frighten him.

"Gab!" the baby squealed, and both Abby and Ziva turned around to see Gibbs approaching, Kate at his heels. The infant held out his stubby arms and his fingers flexed, begging for Jethro.

Gibbs took Tony from Abbys' arms and cradled him close to his chest.

"So, what did Sheppard say when you informed her of…our current predicament." Ziva inquired, curiosity getting the best of her. They had hidden Tonys' condition for a little over two weeks, but after seeing a baby toddling about in the office that morning, the cat had been let out of the bag.

"The director is sending us home effective immediately." Kate updated them. "We're all on probation for keeping her in the dark about this for so long, and she doesn't want Tony here in the building, in case someone starts suspecting something and goes to the media with this story."

"So she's suspending us? What are we going to do about that child-knapping doctor in holding? We still don't have anything on him." Abby fretted.

Gibbs sighed, "Sheppard promised she'd keep him and currently has another team covertly working on the case and searching his labs and trying to get as much out of the guy as possible. For now, I agree with the director; we should all go home and get some sleep for the time being—Duck, Palmer, and McGee already left. You three take your leaves too, and I'll call you guys if anything happens with Tony." With that, the three remaining members of team Gibbs were dismissed, albeit reluctantly.

* * *

><p>"Gab!" baby Tony yelped, when two strong hands lifted the bundle up.<p>

Gibbs wandered to the kitchen with the small child in his arms and sat him atop the table. He could hardly believe this tiny being was his senior field agent. He ran his hand through the babys' soft tufts of hair very gently. "Oh Tony." He sighed—it seemed he'd been doing a lot of that lately.

The baby grinned happily at the interaction and leaned into Gibbs' touch openly, something the adult Tony would never have done. The only contact Gibbs ever had with Tony was in the gym or the occasional head slap around the office. "I miss you Tony." He whispered, kissing the babys' forehead softly.

"Gab!" The baby exclaimed, ducking his head, as if coy.

Gibbs smirked slightly. Even as a child, Tony had been a real character. "Let's get you to bed, kid." Jethro scooped up the baby, almost expecting him to quip, 'What? No dinner first?' and shook his head at the thought.

* * *

><p>It was four in the morning when he heard it; the noise was faint but Gibbs trained ears were able to pick up the quiet sobbing coming from down the hall.<p>

Gibbs had taken his daughters' crib from storage and set it up in her old bedroom for Tony when he'd turned into a toddler, and as he peaked inside, past the bars, was shocked to see how incredibly small Tony looked inside the thing—he hadn't looked this small before, surely? Reaching in to pick up the crying baby, Gibbs realized with dread, that in the last few hours since he'd put Tony to bed, he'd de-aged once more. It was frightening. Tony barely weighed seven pounds. Gibbs cradled the crying infant in his hands and tried not to panic. He was as tiny as his daughter had been, the first time he'd held her in the hospital so many years ago.

"Shhh, shhh, its okay, I'm here." He comforted the infant, gently rocking him back and forth in his arms. Tony was a mere speck in his arms—he couldn't get over that. This whole de-aging process was moving too quickly, they needed more time. To do what, Gibbs wasn't sure, entirely. To find a cure? Was there even a cure?

Thirty minutes later Ducky was in Gibbs living room. "God Jethro, our boy is but a few days old right now." He uttered, and then there was a moment of heavy silence that followed the statement.

"Shit." Gibbs muttered, placing his head in his hands. "We're out of time, Duck, it's over." He whispered, voice cracking.

Ducky swiveled around and turned to his oldest friend. "Now Jethro, we are not giving up, there must be something we can do, anything!"

Gibbs eyes widened; he couldn't remember the last time the mortician had looked so desperate and out of his element.

More silence followed.

* * *

><p>Gibbs rocked the infant in his arms, lulling him to sleep. "I'm sorry Tony." He whispered into the babys' soft hair.<p>

Tony squirmed in his arms, snuggled deeper into Jethros' warm chest, and let out a contented sigh. In a day, in a couple of hours, in the next few minutes, even, there'd be nothing left of him to hold…

Apologizing now meant nothing, as the infant couldn't possibly understand him. He needed to say so many things to Tony. Say sorry for not being able to save him, above all, but also sorry for never having been able to get up the courage to tell the younger man how much he meant to him. The kid was like a son to him, and now, in his last hours, Gibbs' regret over not having told the adult Tony how much he loved him, was overwhelming.

"I'm so sorry." Gibbs hugged the tiny baby gently. Oh God, he was sorry. So sorry.

"I should've told you, all those years ago, when I hired you. You were so damn loud, DiNozzo." Gibbs scoffed, reminiscing fondly. "So hyper and flirtatious with anything that had legs—Abby wanted to punch you, remember? She griped about having you around, said you were nothing but a muscle-head pretty boy jock and called me crazy for keeping you." Gibbs grinned. She later ate those words. They were best friends now, for heavens' sake. "She was so blinded by her experience with the jocks in her high school days she didn't realize all those bright smiles and cheeky one liners were a mask." He nuzzled the babys' forehead softly. Tony _'mmm'ed_ and let out another sigh.

"It was after you and she got held hostage at that café near NCIS, after you saved her and all those people from those three gunmen, that she knew you were more than fake grins and all that superficial flirting. I can't remember head-slapping you harder than I did on that day—how could you risk your life like that? You're important too, you know." Gibbs sighed. "Abby went to hug you afterward and you practically _cringed_, completely stiff. Even today, you still look uncomfortable and awkward for a second before letting yourself relax." Gibbs would love just ten minutes alone with the man who'd fathered Tony, in a soundproof room. Just ten minutes would do.

"I'm sorry Tony." He wasn't entirely sure anymore for what he was asking forgiveness for. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

><p>It was seven am when he woke up a second time in the AM. He must have only fallen asleep an hour ago maybe, with the baby snug against him on the bed. Even his internal alarm clock wasn't that good, Gibbs thought, wondering what had woken him in the first place. Reaching out for the infant, his hand recoiled instantly. There was a faint warmth next to him, but nothing else. "Oh God." Gibbs breathed, laying very still on his bed. He could hear the beat of his heart in his ears, it was so incredibly loud. He'd been prepared for this Damnit. They'd made no progress for weeks, it was inevitable. "Oh God." He heard himself say a second time, in a voice not his own.<p>

Abby would slaughter him—he hadn't had the decency to call the team over to say goodbye. Ducky had stormed out abruptly after their argument, but he too, had not been able to bid the senior agent ado. Hell, _Gibbs_ hadn't had the chance to say goodbye. How could he? "Oh God, God, oh God." Tears welled in the rim of his eyes. Breathing suddenly hurt. His chest felt heavy, like something was pressing against it hard. "Tony…" the word broke his voice. Oh God.

Gibbs laid there, the silence too loud and the air too thick to live off, the warmth at his side fading. He couldn't do this. He couldn't get up from this bed and go on with everything. How? The possibility seemed very unreal and far away. Could he just lie in this bed and wait to disappear, too?

How did people do it? How did people lose something so important and precious and perfect to them and then keep going on? He'd done it before—his mother had died and he'd continued with life, two good marines had died beside him at one point and he'd gone on, he'd lost a partner at NCIS, and he'd strived on, the tragic deaths of his beautiful wife and his gorgeous daughter—two irreplaceable people in his life—had overwhelmed him terribly and shattered him, but he had overcome the loss and now thought fondly of his memories of them. Oh, he still missed them, achingly, but he still had it in him every single day to get up out of bed and keep moving.

So why not now? Gibbs' entire body felt heavy and motionless. His limbs weighed him down like anchors on a ship. He couldn't do this again. Gibbs closed his eyes.

"Boss! It's almost 8, I made breakfast, so get up!" a voice shouted from beyond his room.

Gibbs laid stock still for a minute.

"Boss, you're gonna' be late to work." A tiny toddler, around the age of three or four was standing at his door, looking exasperated, holding a spatula in one hand, covered in flour and syrup.

"Tony…" Gibbs uttered.

The toddler raised a brow, "Gibbs. Breakfast. Downstairs. Now." He mocked.

Gibbs practically leapt off the bed, the springs twinging beneath his feet, and he picked up the unprepared, startled child and hugged him so tightly to his chest, Tony could hardly breath.

"Boss, you're suffocating meeeeee." The toddler whined, wondering what on earth was wrong with Gibbs.

"Shhh, just stay like this." Gibbs whispered into the toddlers fluffs of baby soft hair. "Just…stay." He mumbled.


	13. Chapter 13

"I DON'T GET IT, what does this mean?" Kate inquired, bouncing a grumpy Tony on her lap, despite his many protests.

"I haven't quite figured that out yet." Ducky regretted to inform the bunch, however relieved he was for the turn of events that had occurred that morning. "I've high hopes that perhaps this signifies his return to adult-hood."

McGee scoffed. "I didn't know he'd reached that stage even before this whole fiasco."

"Ha-ha." the three year-old deadpanned, not at all happy about his current situation. He couldn't recall a single thing, except that he'd been in massive amounts of pain in the van, back at the crime scene, several days ago, and then he'd woken up in his bosses' arms, which had freaked him out considerably, and now he was in the bullpen with his team. He turned to the good doctor and asked, "So, I'm turning back to normal?"

Ducky shrugged eloquently. "Frankly, dear, I'm not entirely certain of anything when it comes to your condition at the moment. You were about this age a few days ago, although you tell us you can't remember a single event from that time-but then, you had the mental capacity of a toddler, and now, you're clearly lucid. This could be seen as a sign towards progress. What that mad scientist did to you whilst you were in captivity must be working, surely." He explained roughly.

Gibbs swiftly grabbed the toddler from Kate and bounced him against his hip a little as he adjusted his grip. Tony found the gesture oddly comfortable and without thinking too much, his tiny hands went to grip at his boss's navy blue shirt. "So, he's getting better then." Gibbs simplified shortly.

Ducky sighed. "I have absolutely no idea; although I would like to look at this new development as a positive one."

Abby strolled in from Gibbs' kitchen, Ziva behind her, and put down a wide plate full of coffee, tea, and pastries. "Bon a petite." she motioned with a little curtsy.

Everyone immediately dug in, thanking Abby and Ziva for the food and drinks. "No coffee for you, kiddo." Gibbs snatched the too-big-cup from Tonys' hands and handed him an apple juice carton on the table.

"Boss!" Tony exclaimed indignantly. "I'm not really three, you know, I just look it." he sighed. He couldn't for the life of him remember anything from the past few days-everything seemed like a very far away dream now, and it would have been, if he weren't still stuck in this miniature body of his. He'd been smaller than other kids his age at three, and it was no different now-Abby had even pointed out that her two year old niece was a little bigger than him.

"Doesn't matter. Coffee's not good for ya'." He retorted quickly, shoving the apple juice back into his hands a second time.

Tony sipped through the straw, embarrassed. He picked at the cake which he and Gibbs were sharing since Gibbs wasn't too fond of sweets, and he was much too small to devour one all by himself.

After a while of talking, the gang departed Gibbs' home one by one, until only Gibbs and Tony remained. Their suspensions would only last another few days before they would be cleared to go back to work, and then, Tony thought, he'd be miserably lonely. He hoped that by then he was back to his adult self.

**One Week Later...**

"I'm going to _kill _him Abby."

"McGee! Don't kill Baby Tony!" Abby yelled at the MIT graduate via webcam.

"He's so annoying!" McGee complained.

The teams' suspension had ended rather abruptly three days earlier due to a triple homicide in Washington with NCIS written all over it. Jenny couldn't afford not to put her best team on the case. Ducky, Palmer, and Abby, who all would have been happy to stay home and watch over the fussy toddler had to go along to Washington with Gibbs and the team due to Gibbs lack of patience with the professionals at the Washington headquarters.

Gibbs would have loved to have taken Tony with them, but Jenny had explicitly told him that until Tony was "better" he was not to be seen anywhere near NCIS official business. So, after literally drawing the short straw, McGee was left the designated babysitter.

The first day had passed by pretty smoothly, all things considered. Tony had watched T.V most of the day, stuffed his little face, and tried to convince Tim to let him have some beer. However, two hours into the second day McGee noticed Tony was beginning to act more his physical age again. He wet himself (something he had only done in the short time that he couldn't remember anyway), much to both Tim and Tonys' embarrassment. He had trouble walking-he toddled instead of walking with his usual swagger (which was admittedly very funny to see in a toddler). And his hand eye coördination was a little off-during dinner he got most of the food on himself than in his actual stomach.

And today he was pretty much all over the place. He wet himself again that morning and shamelessly walked to Tims' room and asked him to change him, as if it weren't a big deal. Then at breakfast he ignored his utensils and dug into his Cheerios with his stubby little fingers instead. Tim couldn't tell whether he was reverting back into a child-like mind-state or not, only because every now and then Tony would make a smart alec remark no three year old could possibly come up with, much less utter.

He ran around the house. Broke a lamp-a nice lamp, too, the one his Grandma had given him when he'd first moved into his own place. He refused to eat lunch, on a count of it looked "yucky".

And every hour, on the dot, it was "McGoober! McGoober! McGeek! McNerd!"

"What Tony, what?!"

"I'm bored."

"He's driving me nuts Abby! I don't know how his parents handled him as a kid. I would've died if I had to deal with this every day-" He stopped abruptly, realizing that was a little harsh, and then he noticed the wide-eyed look on Abbys' face through the webcam on his laptop. "What?" Tim flinched, ready to hear an earful from the forensic Goth.

But instead, all that came out was a sad "Tim..." she gestured behind him, disappointment in her eyes.

Confused, McGee looked back, only to be met by the dulled eyes of a three year-old. McGee cringed again. Oh, now he was in for it. Tony was gonna' bug him all day for talking behind his back. Instead of sticking his tongue out at him or flipping him off and calling him "McQueen" or something along those lines, like McGee expected, Tonys' eyes welled up with tears. And after two ragged breaths, he was sobbing.

"I'm sorry Tim. I'm sorry. Don't do that. I'm so sorry!" he cried, his small frame shaking almost violently. Jethro the German Shepherd dog Abby had made McGee keep a while ago, came over immediately and tried to lick the tears away, to no avail. Tony was absolutely inconsolable.

Tim was more than startled. He was flabbergasted. "T-Tony. Don't cry. Look, it's not a big deal. It's ok." He quickly turned to the webcam, where Abbys' distraught face greeted him. "What the hell do I do?!" he half-whispered. "Isn't he over reacting a little?!"

Abby glared at Tim. "McIdiot!" she whispered back, tears in her own eyes now. "Don't you remember, Tonys' mom died when he was a kid!"

Tims' heart sunk. "Oh God." How could he have forgotten? He'd come across it one day when he was trying to pull a counter prank on Tony. He'd managed to hack into his personal files to get some dirt on him, and discovered the terrible tragedy of his mothers' suicide. Immediately Tim turned off the webcam, despite a protesting Abigail, and ran over to the toddler. He scooped him up in his arms and hushed him.

"Tony, Tony, please hush. It's ok. I'm sorry." He ranted.

But Tony continued to rack with sobs. "Don't..." he gasped. "Don't die." he cried. "I'll be good. I'm sorry Tim. I'm sorry!" Tony clung to Tim desperately, his little nails practically digging into his skin. "Please."

Tim wanted to kick himself. How could he have said something so idiotic and inconsiderate? He wouldn't have said something so mean to DiNozzo as an adult, much less in the form of a mere child! "Tony I didn't mean to say something so awful. I'm not going to die. I promise."

Tony, however, didn't stop crying. He continued well into the evening, and, eventually, fell asleep, exhausted, his small chest heaving.

McGee sighed profoundly as he tucked in the toddler. He hoped everything would be back to "normal" by tomorrow morning.

**Three Days Later...**

"Gosh that took forever!" Abby stretched. "I can't wait to see our little snuggle bunny." she hadn't told Gibbs or any of the team about the incident between McGee and Tony she'd seen three days ago via webcam, but only because she didn't want to get him into trouble. She hoped three days was enough for Tim to take back those awful words and make Tony feel better. She was surprised he had outright cried, and had the terrible feeling that Tonys' mind was reverting to that of a toddlers once again. She sighed, wishing he'd go back to normal again.

Gibbs half-smirked. "I'm sure he'd love that nickname Abbs." He'd wanted to check up on Tony and Tim the entire week they'd been away, but because the case had been so time-consuming and with so many dead end leads, he'd had to settle for Abbys' mini updates every now and then. He couldn't wait to see Tony.

"Do you think Tim is at his widths ends?" Ziva wondered aloud.

"Wits." Kate corrected. "Wits end, Ziva-and to answer your question, yes. I bet Tony's running circles around him as we speak." she laughed.

Tim had gone to Gibbs home as soon as he heard news that the team was on their way back. Tim hadn't said anything to Abby, partly due to the immense quilt he was feeling, about how Tony had fared. It wasn't that he was still hysterical anymore, but he certainly wasn't himself. Tony had anchored himself to Tim-he was stuck to him like glue! If he let him go for more than five minutes Tony would start sobbing! He refused to sleep in his crib, too; he slept with Tim, who worried constantly about accidentally rolling over on the petite toddler during the night and suffocating him-he'd heard a similar story on the Health Channel a while back.

He knew he was in for it with Gibbs, Abby, Ducky, and well...everyone, really, when they arrived and saw the state Tony was in, but he didn't really care anymore, he just wanted to fix Tony. He hoped that seeing Gibbs would make Tony revert back to himself-at least mentally, if not physically.

"Honey we're hooooome!" Abby shouted as she strutted into Gibbs' home, Ducky and the rest in tow.

McGee walked out of the kitchen to greet the NCIS team, toddler locked on his hip. "Welcome back." he muttered, knowing they'd notice soon that something was not right with Tony. Adult DiNozzo was completely gone. He could barely speak in legible sentences anymore. "Um, he uh, he's gone full-fledged toddler again." he explained, at their questioning stares.

Gibbs sighed. "Doesn't matter; we still have time to figure this thing out." he went to reach for the toddler sucking his little thumb, and was surprised when Tony let out an almost frantic wail.

"TIM!" he cried, refusing to let go of the MIT graduates' shirt. "Go'way." Tony yelled at Gibbs.

Gibbs thought the team could hear his heart crack a little inside his chest. He hadn't been gone that long, had he?

"What is wrong with Tony?" Ziva narrowed her eyes.

McGee stumbled over his words in an attempt to explain. "I um well, the thing is, I was kind of frustrated the other day, and I was ranting to Abby about how annoyed I was and I thought Tony's mind might have turned back to a toddlers' and I-I mean, I didn't mean to, but I uh, I didn't think he was in the room, and I ended up saying that I would rather d-die than be the one who had to raise him, and he was behind me when I said it, and uh, he f-freaked out and started crying and the next day, and the next, and today, he's been clinging to me like this. No matter how many times I say I'm sorry, he won't let go." McGee finally breathed.

There was a large pulsing vein on Gibbs forehead that was seconds away from popping, and everyone stepped back a little in anticipation. "You said _what_?" he tried to keep his voice calm, so as not to startle the already frightened toddler, but it was like trying to reign in a bull.

Kate furrowed her brows. Why was everyone making a big deal out of this? DiNozzo was a pain in the ass-toddler or not.

Ducky went over to McGee, who looked as if he would join Tony, who was still sniffling into his shirt, any minute, and rested his hand on his shoulder gently. "Now now, Jethro, it's not the time to be getting upset. What's done is done, and Timothy is quite obviously remorseful for having said it, isn't that right my boy?"

Tim nodded his head, unable to say much of anything under the heat of Gibbs' threatening glare.

Abby nodded vigorously. "That's right Bossman, he didn't mean to say that, and he's really sorry, so don't be mad, ok?" she pleaded.

Gibbs turned his withering stare towards the Goth. "You knew about this, didn't you? Why the hell wasn't I informed?"

Abby hid behind Ducky, barely. "You were focused on the case-we all were! And I thought if Tim could fix it, you wouldn't have to worry."

Gibbs just shook his head and sighed, and McGee and Abby both cringed outwardly and inwardly. That look was one of disappointment that neither enjoyed being on the receiving end of.

Tony felt horrible.

Inwardly, he was absolutely mortified, embarrassed!-but outwardly, all he could do was cling to Tim and sob if he let him go, or lash out at those who tried, in vain, to hold him. He couldn't do anything to control any of his reactions or the overwhelming feelings he had. Logically, he knew Tim would be alright if he let him out of his sight, even for a minute, but his brain was all mush at the moment, and all he could see when Tim walked away was his mothers' still corpse.

Not even the crestfallen look on Gibbs' face when he refused to go with him made much of an impression on the toddler. He just needed to know that Tim was safe. That he wouldn't be the cause of another death. His father had made if quite clear to him years ago that he was at fault for what his mother had done that day.

A.N. Sorry for the long wait. Life. Etc. I'll have the next chapter up sometime in the next two weeks.


	14. Chapter 14

TONY SOBBED QUIETLY.

He knew it was irrational—he wasn't _really_ a child—he simply wore the appearance of one. He wasn't at his fathers' mercy anymore, he wasn't a burden, something to use and abuse and then neglect at anyone's convenience. His mother wasn't dead because he was such an awful son—she had drowned herself in alcohol for years before the inevitable suicide.

No matter how many times he reiterated these lines, this mantra, in his head, the child in him refused to be coaxed out of thinking McGee might shoot himself with a loaded barrel any second now, the way his mother had, because he'd behaved so terribly.

Tony couldn't let the man out of his sight for more than a minute at a time. He might lock himself in the master bedroom and shoot his brains out!

He'd found his mother, in her nicest gown—the one DiNozzo Sr. had had imported special, from Paris, after one particularly savage beating—she had laid there on the bed, her skull blown to bits, her brains spread across the velvet soft pillows, eyes wide open, mouth slightly agape.

He'd been a child then, and the staff had left for the day. His father had been out of the country and at the moment, Tony hadn't been able to recall when it was he'd be getting back home.

Staring at the lifeless corpse that was now his mother, Tony didn't exactly know what to do, or how to react. Sure, she had never been particularly motherly or nurturing, seeing that she was always quite intoxicated, or on meds for her very persistent "anxiety", but Tony had liked to think of her as his "partner" in this war zone they lived in.

After a beating from Senior, she would hide in the wine cellar, shooting back expensive bottles with brand names as if they were tequila shots. Tony would slowly and silently trudge down the stairs, medic kit tucked underneath his armpit, and make his way over to her.

This woman, who'd been thrown across the patio by a backhand to the face, kicked several times in the gut, and dragged by the hair on her head back into the house by her "loving" husband, sat there and sobbed wracking sobs, as her son of only 5 bandaged her back together.

She would occasionally do the same for Tony if it were his turn for a "reprimanding" that week. She'd crawl into the closet with her son, carrying the medic kit under the hem of her long skirt and dress his wounds. Neither of them ever spoke during those encounters.

There was never love or tenderness in the act. It was something akin to a habit, a small ritual of sorts that held very little sentimental value.

Regardless, she had been Tony's comrade in the thick of everything—it had been at least some weird twisted comfort to the child to know that he wasn't entirely alone.

Staring at his mothers' sightless eyes, Tony remembered climbing into the king-sized bed beside her and laying there, not sobbing, not quite touching her either, just laying there.

"Tony?" he heard Kate from overhead.

He managed to glance up at her annoyed face before ducking back into his little hiding spot in the corner of the room. McGee had had to go to the restroom and not being able to tag along had made him go into full panic mode.

"Look Tony." Kate crouched down, "Enough is enough. Everyone is treating you with kid gloves lately, and now you're just taking advantage of the whole situation and making Tim and Abs feel like shit over something McGee said out of frustration—which F.Y.I. Tony, is true. If I had to raise a brat like you, I'd probably go insane and off myself too."

Kate had spoken to Tony before she'd gone to work the case with Gibbs and the rest of her team, and he'd been his old self again, no longer in the mindset of a child. She knew this had to be some sort of messed up prank he was playing on McGee, but this was taking it way too far. He'd gotten Probie and Abby in trouble with Gibbs, genuinely worried everyone with the way he was behaving, and it was really starting to piss Kate off that no one else could see all of Tonys "dramatics" for what they really were.

She was almost surprised to see her teammate cower in fear at her words. Kate huffed and had to refrain from rolling her eyes. No wonder he was so good at under cover. The kid could act.

"Tony, enough of this. It's getting old," she reached out to grab him but didn't take into account the fact that the anger in her tone would genuinely frighten the toddler into pulling back as she pulled forward.

And she definitely didn't expect the nearly blood-curdling scream that was ripped from the toddlers' throat—she didn't even know that noise _could_ come out of something so tiny.

"The hell are you doing?" already pissed with two beloved members of his little "family", Gibbs had hoped the others would tread carefully around him at this point.

Instead, he found himself walking in on his agent practically manhandling the three year-old.

"Kate!" Ziva gaped, seeing the scene before her. Likewise, Ducky, Palmer, Abby, and McGee reacted in a similar fashion.

Tony quickly scrambled over to the Probie. "Tim!" he cried, hands held high in hopes that McGee would pick him up.

McGee immediately complied, his heart clenching with guilt. He'd been the one to reduce Tony to this in the first place. "Shh, shh, I'm here, I'm here." He cradled the toddler gently and rubbed the small of his back, in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

"Gibbs!" Kate stood stock-still. She knew exactly how much Gibbs cared for Tony, so God forbid anyone harm a single hair on his golden boys head.

"Answer my question." Gibbs steely tone was enough to make Kate shudder.

"It was nothing Gibbs; it was an accident." She stuttered. "He's just being a drama queen boss." She huffed, annoyed that she was getting shit for Tony's theatrics.

"Out."

Kate blinked. "W-what?" surely he couldn't be serious!

"Out." He repeated. "Get. Out. Of. My. Sight." Gibbs clarified, the words coming out of tightly clenched teeth.

Kate opened her mouth, about to defend her actions, but thought better of it when she realized that Gibbs' menacing glare—usually reserved for criminals and suspects in the interrogation room—was still very much aimed in her direction. She bawled her hands into fists and stalked quickly out of the room, seething. She couldn't believe everyone was buying DiNozzos' crap!

Ziva quickly chased after her teammate. "What was that?" she questioned, once she'd caught up to her.

Kate glared down at the floor and scowled. "It was an accident!" she repeated. "And why the hell are everyone's panties in a bunch over this? Tony's playing a really messed up joke on poor McGee and I'm the one who gets into trouble?! How the hell is that fair?"

Ziva raised a brow. "Why do you think Tony would play such a cruel joke on Tim?"

"I don't…" she paused. "Because…I don't know, just—there's no reason for him to react the way he did after hearing Tim's rant. It makes no sense."

Zivas eyes widened in realization. "You do not know."

"Know what?"

"Kate. Tony's mother killed herself when he was a child. He found the body." Ziva's tone was grave.

Kate went white. "What? No. Wait—but, how do you know? Am I the only one who didn't know?"

Ziva shrugged. "I am a trained spy. I need to know about who I am working with. I found the police report when I went digging into DiNozzos' past." She sat down on the stairs next to a shell-shocked Kate. "I assume Gibbs knows because, well, he is Gibbs. I am not sure how McGee, Abby, and Mallard know, however, but they seem to be aware." She explained.

"Jesus." Kate breathed. How the hell could she not have known? Oh God. She was mortified. She was constantly ragging Tony on his rich "Mommy" and "Daddy". She was a profiler for shit's sake! Kate put her head in her hands. "Oh God."

What had she done?

Tony sniffled and curled up against Tims' chest.

Ducky was carefully wrapping a bandage around the scratches on the toddlers arm; Kate's nails had really dug in there. The doctor couldn't bring himself to believe their dear Kate had been so rash! "How are you feeling dear?" he asked gently, looking down sadly at the toddler on McGee's lap.

Tony looked up momentarily, saw the intensity of worry with which the good doctor was staring at him with, and was suddenly struck by how much he missed his mother—he was sure that at one point, perhaps when he'd been too young to really recall at all, she had nurtured him and cradled him in her arms and looked down at him with those same eyes. Those eyes which bore nothing but unconditional love and concern for him.

His breath hitched. "Mommy…" he cried, looking about the room for her. "Mommy?" he searched desperately, any part of his adult mind gone at this point.

Tim shot Ducky a look of absolute despair. "Umm," he stuttered, not at all sure how to comfort a toddler looking for its mother.

"Mommy! Mommy!" he sobbed, gasping for air.

Ducky expertly picked up the crying child and held him close to his chest. "There, there, my dear boy." The soft, steady lull of his voice was enough to quite Tony.

Abby and Gibbs had run in from the kitchen upon hearing the wailing, and now stood by the entrance of the living room. Abbys' bottom lip wobbled, as she tried not to join baby Tony. He looked so lost…

Abruptly, the toddler stiffened in Duckys grasp and let out a piercing scream.

"Tony!" Gibbs dove forward to catch both Duck and Tony, when in an instant, he transformed right before their awe-struck eyes, back into an adult.

The sudden transformation had been so quick, that if they'd blinked, they'd have missed it. His limbs had suddenly popped, and stretched out, his torso had enlarged dramatically, and Tony now lie naked, atop an extremely shocked Ducky, who lie atop Gibbs.

At the commotion, Kate and Ziva had shown up, guns drawn, and with Abby and McGee, stared at the scene before them in shock.

"What happened—I was not gone _so_ long, was I?" Ziva questioned seriously, eyes wide.

A.N. I want to say thank you to everyone for reading and commenting and messaging me for this (and some of my other fics) story, and while I cannot promise consistent or speedy updates (for which I am terribly sorry!) I can promise you that I have not given up on any of these fics! The past year and a half has been not so pretty, and it's only very recently I've been able to realize that one terrible event and one monster of a man in my life can't keep me hiding under my sheets forever. Yay for going back to school and writing fanfiction and leaving the house and playing with my dog again! And yay to you awesome folk who reside here on and feed my need for wonderful alternative plots! -N.M.


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